Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

You see just behind that sight there's nothing
you can't see, you can't look, you are blind.
and just beyond that sound you can't hear,
not a snap, not a whisper, or a chime (deaf and blind)
and when all your secrets are told you can't talk
no sound, no wind, no words, (deaf, mute, blind)
and just past that chill up your spine you can't feel
no emotion, no sensation, nothings real.
some people say when you die you will see,
but others say it's a version of hell,
that you go to when you try to see too far past your realm.
inulgence, self righteousness, worship, and kill.
so that you make and feel what you choose to be real.
some call it sweeping dust under the rug.
others call them skeletons in your closet.
but they'll soon catch up with you
if you do or don't want it
cause karma's got it's own clock of vengence lists
and kid, you're on it.

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