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I should be somewhere. Running.
Not here where I feel the moments. Wasted.
Waiting for novelty to rain. Searching.
I want to move but I’m stuck. Static.
It seems I have no reason. Waiting.
Apathy throws me to confusion. Wondering.
The world then carries on. Turning.
Even when I’m here doing nothing. Passing.
Silence is a lullaby. Teasing.
Stillness is its accompaniment. Unrelenting.
While everything is kinetic. Pressing.
I’m here wishing I could have their purpose. Grudging.
Left behind. Thinking.
Before, what was I doing? Remembering.
Did I have dreams, too, I was chasing? Pursuing.
But now long gone and forsaken. Forgotten?
I do not fancy sleep as before. Lying.
But death is the mercy of a listless soul. Hoping.
Is it easier to never start and expect? Hating.
If so, to exist is my crime and shall fall to oblivion.
No.
Once more, I want to try. Struggling.
Again, I’ll have to play my cards. Preparing.
Over and over, even failing. Enduring.
And for now, I’ll go. Advancing.
- by Hypersomniac Slacker |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 11/10/2014 |
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- Title: IDLENESS
- Artist: Hypersomniac Slacker
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Description:
I came up with this out of frustration of doing nothing.
In the end, I think I just had a conversation with myself. - Date: 11/10/2014
- Tags: idleness
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