Saturday, July 09, 2005

Sometimes

A pile of void with a sting of hatred, boredom and disgust,
A feeling of emptiness and deafness in a soul that has rust.
A mind turned stiff and black
As if I have been slapped.
I don’t want to talk,
I don’t want to laugh,
I just want to sit behind the glass
Watching with no expressions
All of the out world nonsense.

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