Still not there yet,
but I will get there
and the fresh air
will do me good.

Piped into the tube
with
elbow grease.

It never had to be this way
it doesn't need to be
all it takes is
one little step
to set this spirit free

On the ride
an
unattended
suicide
the week has gone
so long

no one cries when
Thursday dies
we have to carry on.

Keeping my sanity
by pretending
I'm not me,
just a cut out from
some comic book
you look at then discard.

Life is hard,
the option's clear
if
you don't like it
move out of here.

Occasionally
bouts of silence descend
upon me
it is then the doubts appear.

usually a maelstrom,
a raging inside
the cauldron
but
you'd never know.

six 0 one
the turning goes on
the day curls around me
sounds of city life surround me
a stereophonic
cacophony

back in the Zone.