I tend to lose hope, but I'm able to find it again, soon enough
walking walking, one two three across these barren lands.
check it out, these dirtied hands, picking dust from everywhere.
I lose myself in each step I take,
leaving behind footsteps sodden in lost feelings
the water pipe will break soon, I can hear it.
Does it matter? matter, mind. master mind.
I'm drowning here, in insignificant events
unimportant, unenlightening,
it seems that all is a circle, no ending.
Pulling me back when I thought I'd gone so far.
It's a sad truth, my sad truth.
one of them, at least.
My fashioned reality is an adverse one,
my own mind is out to get me.
..It seems.
Pull the veil, shed this outer skin,
calloused from countless close encounters
wrong turns down dark alleys leading nowhere but your own demise.
A mental escapade,
we've made this world a duplicity,
using big words, disguising frail desperation.
Deception runs wild as the depression runs deep.
Losing hope like water through fingers.
Yet I know that around each corner is a new chance.
A new opportunity to change everything around.
It's up to us to realize it.
ReCreation
Poetry by Sparks
Read 503 times
Written on 2009-07-30 at 23:23
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ReCreation
An ultimate decision of everlasting sacrifices.walking walking, one two three across these barren lands.
check it out, these dirtied hands, picking dust from everywhere.
I lose myself in each step I take,
leaving behind footsteps sodden in lost feelings
the water pipe will break soon, I can hear it.
Does it matter? matter, mind. master mind.
I'm drowning here, in insignificant events
unimportant, unenlightening,
it seems that all is a circle, no ending.
Pulling me back when I thought I'd gone so far.
It's a sad truth, my sad truth.
one of them, at least.
My fashioned reality is an adverse one,
my own mind is out to get me.
..It seems.
Pull the veil, shed this outer skin,
calloused from countless close encounters
wrong turns down dark alleys leading nowhere but your own demise.
A mental escapade,
we've made this world a duplicity,
using big words, disguising frail desperation.
Deception runs wild as the depression runs deep.
Losing hope like water through fingers.
Yet I know that around each corner is a new chance.
A new opportunity to change everything around.
It's up to us to realize it.
ReCreation
Poetry by Sparks
Read 503 times
Written on 2009-07-30 at 23:23
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
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by SparksLatest textsIn a rutSoil for seeds I have Eight of Pentacles Ode to my Downtown |
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