I do ponder on
The questions life
Has sent me.
Over priced.
And I feel guilty
For charging others
My bill.
They pay in full.
And you’d think I’d feel
Better but its just the opposite.
Just me and
Every bill I send that
Doesn’t get sent
Back is an
Unreturned
Smile
An unshook hand.
And you think I
Wouldn’t
Mind,
Who wants violent
Vibrations?
And who wants
To be seen
If they are sitting in
The dark?
The light hurts my
Eyes and sometimes
I think I will never
Turn it on.
Sometimes I wonder,
How many people have passed through this
Room, how close
They have come to my table,
And how hot their breath would have been
If they had turned
Momentarily
To me.
I am clad in fancies
And would not
Be a pain to look on.
I have seen to that.
Proaction.
I have heard of that.
There is much
That lies within me.
I’ve set the table
For conversation
And wonder if a guest will
Arrive.
I’ve been preparing
For such a long time
Now that I fear
The abundance of food will frighten them
Off
And they will flee
Squealing
And my mind
Will hit that high
Pitched high as I
Sing along to their cry
Feeling real alive
And light will
Explode from the sky
For mili seconds of seconds
I will be visible to
The naked eye
The light will go as
Fast as it came
And soon I’ll be back
In the darkness again
Playing my
Little game
Alone.
hey dear.......i loved your mind........what you have inside you..........pretty cool kinda piece...........lovely great..........
So well written - my sentiments exactly - only I think we are happier dreaming our dreams than sharing the feast with unfeeling others - knowing the handshake and smile will never be returned. Just be prepared to be disappointed, expect the unexpected, and keep your dreams safe where nobody can touch them - and you'll be okay. See how well you have written - you made me philosophise about life! Keep writing, Kind regards, Margaret.
Fascinating stream of consciousness (funny, I wrote this before I actually read your title!) from someone who thinks too much - and writes very well. This one reminds me of my son whose dark dog has troubled him for years. Accessible, articulate penning. love Allie xxxx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'who wants violent vibrations'- excellent, excellent, excellent- nuff said p.s.- u better not be alone