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ilvaPoems
I am not depressed I’m just deflated Out of style and over-dressed At second-best, I’m overrated An old birthday balloon (Out of breath, somewhat bated) I hum my jingles out of tune One-hit-wonders soon outdated Like a song without sound Mourning a muted meltdown I’m at the point of no concern For my inability to yearn I am - Whatever comes after The past, the future The cries, and the laughter I remain – Whatever came before The purple rain, the midnight train The ****** and the ***** I am a pixelated painting Understood by few Inexplicably containing Little drops of you You’re my middle C A sepia photograph Of my mundane eulogy And my previous epitaph You are my bitter half The gall in my bladder My nervous laugh My endless chatter You’re my history rewritten My once shy, twice-bitten My state-of-the-art You’re the bottom of my heart The top of my lungs You’re my talking in tongues The motivational quote In my suicide note And although I’ll never be free From this heart on my sleeve I’ll always wish you to be The Adam to my Eve.
0
Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 2:18 AM UTC
I am not depressed
I am not depressed I’m just deflated Out of style and over-dressed At second-best, I’m overrated An old birthday balloon (Out of breath, somewhat bated) I hum my jingles out of tune One-hit-wonders soon outdated Like a song without sound Mourning a muted meltdown I’m at the point of no concern For my inability to yearn I am - Whatever comes after The past, the future The cries, and the laughter I remain – Whatever came before The purple rain, the midnight train The ****** and the ***** I am a pixelated painting Understood by few Inexplicably containing Little drops of you You’re my middle C A sepia photograph Of my mundane eulogy And my previous epitaph You are my bitter half The gall in my bladder My nervous laugh My endless chatter You’re my history rewritten My once shy, twice-bitten My state-of-the-art You’re the bottom of my heart The top of my lungs You’re my talking in tongues The motivational quote In my suicide note And although I’ll never be free From this heart on my sleeve I’ll always wish you to be The Adam to my Eve.
ilva
Written by
ilva
South African
Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 2:18 AM UTC
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