Life
It's a sensual being, the body,
the choices, the restless conversations and useless forms of manipulation of your mind.
I transpire my reaction to the unspeakable actions,
swallow my pride and try to close my eyes.
What more can I do or is able to do?
The world is a nightmare.
Life is a job.
Sometimes when you go to a place so dark, so lonely, low and not worth meaning,
You do things you might regret.
Tactical it may be, yet it humbles you.
It allows you to make sense of what you are doing and forces you to see how fragile the sense of self, yourself really is.
My recurring nightmare, my endless dream.
Hopefully I'll be able to wake up,
from life.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.