Monday, May 21, 2012

Not Me

Each morning I rise up,
open the doorway to self,
curse a hundred things,
this is so not me.

Begin writing about pain,
hardly feeling an emotion now,
chasing the lost self, running,
is this me?

Criss-cross paths swindle dreams,
a sojourn to darkness and back,
finding peace among the pothor,
who is he?

Treading, hitting back and forth,
living to be someone here,
nights have forgotten rest,
who is he?

Gulping the sorrows within,
some numen around searching,
to prorogue the pain that lives,
is this me?

Failing and not rising,
becoming a self that's false,
sitting idle to let it pass,
this is so not me!

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