"incapsalated" poems
Busy without end,
Needless activity that
Has no bounds.
False actions
So incapsalated with.
Fretting about my life--
An unanimated robot.
Chained to the illusion
Of fervid productivity.
Things to do, things to do
Never a minute, never an hour.
Constant motion--
Only smoke and mirrors.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC