Believe Not My Words
Believe not my words
For who am I but a poet.
Dispensing fleeting thoughts,
happy in their nature,
sarcastic in their ideal.
Broken by the pain,
a mind apart from it’s soul,
wanders aimlessly.
Seeking only to band words,
to bring about fruition.
Existing on the fringe
of reason and mockery.
A satire of life.
petulant raw emotions,
necessitating solitude.
So I persevere,
stringing words as fake feelings.
I carry with me,
the very air of neglect
and place it where all can see.
Trust not your own thoughts!
For could they not be tainted,
by the simple act,
of reading and absorbing
my flotsam so casually strewn.
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