"schizopolaramnomsiac" poems
Each picture fades
Every moment dulls and decays
At least before the end
So that another can
You're here until your gone so just sing your song and let the hands move on
I watch them tick ever too closely
Check my stock ever too often
Yet let the the fruits of my labor spoil still
I toss over it every night
I wake up wondering if the night has really ended
Like a dream I'm truly trapped in
What happened to me?
I lost sight of myself
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC