Longing to be anywhere but here
An endless escape from day
Where the monotony of the morrow disappears
A release from this plague

To my own I must go as I’m tossed into the fold
Amongst the happy faces that seem to shine
Somehow stirs an emptiness in my heart
As I lust after what I search but never find

The days full of hope and love
Two kids grinning ear to ear
Now a bitter decay begins to unfold
As my feelings fade with the passing years

How long must you wait
How long must you hold on
For a dawn that never breaks
Like waves in the passing tide
Now come and gone
Yet it all remains same

This is my box,
home to contrived chaos.
I open and close it
many times a day.

Beside my box
are other boxes
bigger and smaller,
all of them surrounded
by an even bigger box.

And if you left this box
you'd see a field
of boxes
sprawling the land
further than eyes can see.

And how odd is it
--the mere idea--
that all these boxes
adhere to this sphere
we reside upon
like a collection
of living magnets.

There is no objective meaning to life

So how do you expect me to get down and deep

With limited eyes seeing blinders in the corner of my peripherals?

It's residual, I begged to shake these thoughts like snowflakes

in a crystal, they have scattered up and down til I can't

See the image plastered down the walls of my illusions

Confusion? If only that was true, I see more now than I see in you

How can I feel deep and meaningful when all of this contrived highlights

It's all just my brain bleeding, scattered my drip drops of rage

Do they flip flop? The page has hit lift off, I'm out of the realm

of what I knew to be self development hell compelling me

To scatter fragmants of wanton and wear

But see unless I point that out you'd never know it's there

Because I'm supposed to plaster on a smile and feed you lines

that you desire to add meaning to life, or add a voice down the wire

If I sit upon my laurels you'd think that I had nothing new to say or never

thought about abstractions til they bubble and boil to heady

broth overflowing staining the floors screaming "my god make this stop"

I don't wear my head upon my sleeve, I keep my helmet on

So go ahead and think I'm surface level, I also like to be wrong

Talk to your friends, I'm sure they're dark and mysterious

They have such strong perspectives, they're in touch with the furious

I need to voice at all times? Does my bark not befit you

I'm not a dog meant to bark at every meaning that drives through

I take no solace in wallowing in the depth of another

I don't expect you to read this and gain a sense of the other

I'm not writing to bring you a route down back to your soul

Because you're soulless and weary, I don't claim that I have control

We're spinning in the toilet in a chamber of meaning

Whose **** stinks more than others, why lets compare them and eat it

Consuming excretions is all you get from your dealings

Because nothing is deep, when the bottom is fleeting.