From What Tall Lie Am I Poem by Madrason .

From What Tall Lie Am I



Behind the curtains
of lost paradise
there's always
all-days someone
fencing, being nice.

Sick and tired
of all the veiling
staring at a dirty ceiling
glaring away
into numbness
every day.

Have to move on
have to sustain
carry your past
and your future
in vain.

Where is the gun
which shone in the sun
and made life stun
after a tickle play
the trigger
paved it's way.

Bright is the sun
and my eyes are red
here in the past
lying in my bed
sweating away memories.

From what tall lie am I
that I should fall
or fail to be humane.


Madrason 26 dec 2014

Friday, December 26, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: misery
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Poem for Viggo eo.
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Madrason .

Madrason .

waalwijk netherlands
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