My eyes disconnect from my fingers
Mind from my body on the screen
And lingers
With the walking stick limp
That taps along the concrete
His scraggly white beard blowing in the wind
I saw the old man earlier in the street
I held my hand up to the light
To see if it was fake
Watched the old woman pass
With her brown paper bag
Rip and tear
Assortments spraying like paint
Vulture children swooping down in a rush to eat
Minds so full of hate
Confusion in every eye that sees
I wonder why I bother
Oh my mind is slipping away
My guard is down
Glued to my chair
Pulling out my hair
And there is
So much to choose from
So much
To be done
Here
This is not an exit
And you have not won
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC
My eyes disconnect from my fingers
Mind from my body on the screen
And lingers
With the walking stick limp
That taps along the concrete
His scraggly white beard blowing in the wind
I saw the old man earlier in the street
I held my hand up to the light
To see if it was fake
Watched the old woman pass
With her brown paper bag
Rip and tear
Assortments spraying like paint
Vulture children swooping down in a rush to eat
Minds so full of hate
Confusion in every eye that sees
I wonder why I bother
Oh my mind is slipping away
My guard is down
Glued to my chair
Pulling out my hair
And there is
So much to choose from
So much
To be done
Here
This is not an exit
And you have not won
