Everywhere, you don't need to choose to acknowledge it
Creating a subsequent opulence of
unanswered questions fulfilled,
pedestals gazed upon;
Securely sit our ideas of the world.
Non-conjunct actions leave words to be all that there is.
Influence gone, static amidst the change,
Stagnancy.

Several severed strings,
Sadly scattering the hope in broken dreams.
The wake of things unseen.

Confidence can mean that it seems the seams we've sewn,
seen by actions all all our own,
are stronger than we've known.

He did go quietly into the night,
Restless cries met deaf ears and he still continued to fight
the expectations.

Time dragged, and dragged
ceasing cessation until the inevitable
final destination.

The driver called end of the line and still he rode on, asleep;
not knowing what was going on.
His dreams had told him he had already missed his stop.

And there was no going back.

There's a man who stands like a statue and reads,
And with all his books, you'd think it'd be words he bleeds.
But it's almost as if he sits and holds his breath;
Contact and communication seem to be his death.
Such a kind soul, but it'll never be seen
Alone in a crowd, all others can be so mean.
I'd guess that the knowledge behind his eyes
is a beauty greater than the morning or evening skies.
Yet he sings still so soft that one strains to hear:
Melodies and literature, the only things he holds dear.

I racked my brain to find someone to dedicate this to,
But with all of my searching, I could find only you.
I'm limited in my experience, there's really very few
People that I know, none as well as you.
Yes, I know that i'm in love, within and without
But it's a modest one, I wouldn't go and shout
For I know if I share, someone would claim vanity
Because the once I could be with forever is just me.

Sometimes I observe something
I have or haven't seen before.
Strangely more than anything,
A desire to feel it can't be ignored.

Despite my lack of reasons
I won't keep my hands away;
The texture allures like warmer seasons
In time, on some other day.

The rough edges protrude
One hand caressing kindly.
Often it feels smooth,
My fingers running blindly.

Every once in a while
I'll feel a door, a wall, a pillar
To observe its physical style;
How a victim's studied by a killer.

But more often than not,
No destruction is in mind.
Just the feeling and a thought
In my brain, attractively kind.

Sometimes I wish I knew why
I can't ignore the object.
A reality check that I try
To touch the sky is my next project.

Uncertainty is what i've been dealt,
These questions make me reel.
If it's something that cannot be felt,
How do we know it's real?

I like the way these painkillers feel
Weakening, trembling, serenity
I don't really think they'll help me heal
A cover-up, delightful amenity

I wish that my thoughts came in more than four lines
Always ****** and meaningless
And I always have this obsession with rhyme
One day i'll be left penniless

I thought today of those unfortunately without a home
and how I don't feel like helping them
I'm unbearably selfish, we're all somewhat unknown
Where's my humanity been?