Monday, November 30, 2009

August 16th - Workaholic

Is it as stupid as it seems?
Am I mocked in my absence?
When my eyes look past today
My mind sits on a bench of mistake
Pondering there response to my presence
What do they perceive of my persistence
Trying to form my image in the reflection
Interpreted through body language
and silent nuances in there expression
My words to quick to project
Impulses so familiar only to my inadequacy
Stop listen, let them speak first
Don't let them know your weakness
They will tare you apart

You'll have to reconstruct
Eliminate the past
Embers of fictitious Eden
When I was smothered by sickness
Indulged in a fabricated state
Soaking the innocents all around
Searching for a drop of reality
but relentlessly reaching into puddles
of imagination and falling into
subterranean man holes hidden inside
Where I find even more dreams and extensive desire

Oh well you can take it
The job is tearing at my mind
Crawling over and poking me with sharp sticks
Reminding me I'm only as great
as the person who feeds me
Incompetent enough to bestow
meticulous work at my feet
that uses less than an ounce
of regular human brain power

I still can't stop
and let the wheels roll away
If I let it go I'll be lost
These dreaded images of what would be
Haunts me now and if I let them
corner me in my tunnel vision
when my attention locks to one road
that I thought was wrong
I'll only find when my heart falls apart
Yet again and my stomach spills
Across the sky covering the sun
and the day will be lost
Total confusion
I forget the smell of beautiful trees
The competition to reach the highest ground
But what is? You say you've been?

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