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Tag: psyche

I Started Seeing Skeletons

I started seeing skeletons on the street the other day
Not clean, clinical, comical, classroom ones
But stinking, putrid corpses where rotting corrupted flesh
Hangs in stinking, putrid strips
The puss of a thousand dreadful sins dripping in their wake

I started seeing skeletons on the street the other day
Their hollow vacant eyes hiding hollow vacant lies
Hiding evil done and good undone
Inhaling hypocrisy, exhaling insincerity
As they crawl through painted gilded lives

I started seeing skeletons on the street the other day
Where faces were, bigotry remains
Where hands were now deception lingers
What once was flesh is now duplicity
Arrogance like skin wears them well

I started seeing skeletons on the street the other day
Smelling their lust, their greed, their fear
As I walked among these living rancid dead
One with them, part of them
A fallen soul in a fallen world

I started seeing skeletons on the street the other day

08/02/2017

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From Inside

So many fears
Ripping me apart
Voices in my head
Driving me insane
Pain
Hitting me like rain

Keep it inside
Smile at distant faces
No-one comes near
Only fear
Isolation
No Emotion

Mask your true identity
Bluff your way through
All you see is red
Like blood
No-one cares
No-one dares

Struggle, struggle without end
Slowly die, drain away
Only empty shell remains
Blown easily on the wind
What a mess
Early death

No-one holds funeral
Who’ll mourn
Fear torn
Wreck that you are
Silent strain
Silent pain

Insanity within insanity
Madness out of bounds
Drive dies
So do I
No caress
No rest

Say goodbye to the outside world
Say goodbye to tomorrow
Only yesterday
Yesterday never leaves
Say goodbye
Hello pain

Confusion, confusion, confusion
Mix up in time
Future, Present, Past
Cannot last
Death comes fast
Oh to cease breathing

14/12/1983

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For You

The radio plays
Gently in the background
Of my life.
The light throws dim shadows
Onto the dreary walls
Of my room.
It is so cold here now
Without you.
You have left an emptiness
That nothing fills.
An icy silence
Of nothing heard
Except my breathing
Harsh and halting.
The hours are long,
Time creeps past.
The hands of the clock
On the wall
Are resistant
To my will,
They are persistent
In their motionlessness.
I fill my life with boredom
And remembrances.
I warm my spiritless heart
With tales of happier days
And wait in frighted hope.
For you.

12/07/1990

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