The Pedantic Romantic
travelling through the
World of Delusion
from Pacific to Atlantic
just with the news on.
Sofas the chauffeur
when you've got nothing
to show for a day spent
lament, pent up in the House,
Deep and empty,
spose that's why they
call it a HolEday,
best book the room key,
all expense on me,
no need for money,
this ***** free,
oh the irony!
How long a stay?
1 week, too weak, four?
Life long exCURSEion
not one foot out the door.
Just a fan of fantasy,
surviving on cans
of what could be,
Stored ambition that
cannot be ruled,
rotting through indecision
so now used for fuel,
Zero emissions in fact
devoid of all,
except to keep
you turning over
and it does at night
when fantasy ends
and truth begins,
as the delusion of
the day fades away
its distractions sleeping
where the sun last lay.
Where the whispers you
could drown in music and tv
become allied with the silence
and now they Scream!
When you wish you
had kept those headphones on,
filling your head with thoughts
laid down on somebody
else's song, so those of yours
from your head be gone.
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 11:14 AM UTC
The Pedantic Romantic
travelling through the
World of Delusion
from Pacific to Atlantic
just with the news on.
Sofas the chauffeur
when you've got nothing
to show for a day spent
lament, pent up in the House,
Deep and empty,
spose that's why they
call it a HolEday,
best book the room key,
all expense on me,
no need for money,
this ***** free,
oh the irony!
How long a stay?
1 week, too weak, four?
Life long exCURSEion
not one foot out the door.
Just a fan of fantasy,
surviving on cans
of what could be,
Stored ambition that
cannot be ruled,
rotting through indecision
so now used for fuel,
Zero emissions in fact
devoid of all,
except to keep
you turning over
and it does at night
when fantasy ends
and truth begins,
as the delusion of
the day fades away
its distractions sleeping
where the sun last lay.
Where the whispers you
could drown in music and tv
become allied with the silence
and now they Scream!
When you wish you
had kept those headphones on,
filling your head with thoughts
laid down on somebody
else's song, so those of yours
from your head be gone.
Another joyful excerpt from my depressive teen days XD Taken from quite a bad time when I look back on it, when I had what I can only describe as a nervous breakdown at 18. This is when I first started writing poetry, in part due to a lack of conversation due to isolation and as a means to express and release all the **** I was feeling.
Hmm sometimes it's good to look back just to appreciate how far you've come and what you can still work on
