So many props
And all I feel
Is dizzy vertigo
Sharpening this mood
Towards madness
Standing in the pump house
Wishing reality
Was more than
An absent seeming
Trying to edge
These un-balanced emotions
Out of my head
All the time
Hearing the beat
Over and over
Incessant in it's noise
More and more
As the day grows late
The masses A-mass
And speak
Some sort of
Rambling reminder
You might know
As freedom
Of sorts
Watching beautiful people
Perform everyday tasks
And wondering...
Who is more foreign
You
Or
Me
Understand
The nature of want
Possess
The desire of necessity
Then maybe
Your truth
Will stop lying
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Format good. Could use spell check. Overall Poem is good. Keep writing! ! !