Oct. 23 2013

A Dark Place

 

I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care—that’s the song;

the repetitive hum of TROUBLE!

body and mind follow blindly along;

by defeated necks and genitals,

by hair, kicking and screaming,

to the mantra, “I don’t care about anything,”

in a voice so blatantly unbelieving.

 

Trustful trying

has long since departed,

in its stead a lust for lying grins

to smother feint hearts barely started.

 

The tears never come,

with tensions ever high;

no rest for the weary

in mad suicide.

 

The hum in the room is all that is left,

where humanity struggled–and failed–to connect

the dots insanity

can only deflect.

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