Tired Words
My mind is haunted again.
By my poetry gnomes.
Plagued with imaginary men.
Filling up my empty homes.
Inside this head.
Chained to my mind.
Sleepless in a dirty bed.
Nothing redeemable to find.
No sympathy.
Nothing to care about.
Just my apathy.
But that's nothing to gloat about.
Looking up at the dusty walls.
Illusions and stones.
Watery graves of make believe falls.
Presence of my loans.
Offering to my sacrifice.
Piece of mind.
Seclusion - my only vice.
Within my images, I get intertwined.
Copyright © Hell Kat | Year Posted 2005
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