Poems less striking,
As my thought patterns weaken
Less sleeping,
more creeping,
measuring up death and adding up my mishaps.
Doubling the moments up where I slipped up or stumbled,
Mumbling words as my soul crumbles,
Asking myself all questions
Suggestions on conceptions of miss-conceptions of pass times.
Thinking to myself why?
Why be so forgetful
Mind stumbling, as my weak stomachs rumbling
Crumbling up words,
Digesting everyone's verse
But not taking in my own
I feel like a clone of what I ones was
Mixed with satan
Contemplating
My life being taken,
Salvations passed
I'm masked
Emotions surpassed
Feelings never connected
Subjected to life's underworld
Humanly neglected, true minds speak unkind sentences
Testing my intelligence,
Rumbling words with no meaning
Subsequent healing of the ones I've broke
Poetic justice for the words that can't be rightfully spoke
Freedom of speech tarnished in my demeanour,
Ora diminished by negatives
Wanting to make a positive
But not putting the will into wanting to live
Is subsiding the love I want to give.
For the righteous ones.
I'm done.