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Sep 2017
My mind is foggy
Though I'm not groggy
A mist emerges
My peace it purges
I see contradictions
And feel convictions
That inflict conflict
And indict convicts
So I accumulate cumulus clouds accordingly
To fog my marshy mind more horribly
My brain becomes a banshee
And screams from my mist
She shrieks an awful list
Of everything wrong
And everyone gone
Her voice blasts through my cerebral stratus clouds
And her voice echoes within the silent static crowd
The clouds I gathered to block her wailing
Are completely empty and always failing
They look so absolutely grand and solid in the sky
They're just water vapor that form droplets in my eyes
Andrew Rueter
Written by
Andrew Rueter  30/M/Kentucky
(30/M/Kentucky)   
4.3k
 
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