Bad Poetry

I’ve lost my mind

Everything’s fine

the stage has cleared

you’re too far from here

too free to care, choosing fear

my god she’s fucking weird

All of Us are here

groundhog day

Everyday

this year

and rhythmic lines

torturous to the seers

who watch upon their gilded rows

incandescent highs and lows

“damn, this bitch is really slow”

thats really low,

It’s not a joke

the words I aimed for

aimlessly I spoke

forgotten in this incredulous

Mote

of gypsy danger

carelessly awoke

she wrote

bad poetry

until we cringed

with eyes opened

shades of light in sheltered

memories; the memoirs

written endlessly

Timeless

to our known destiny

it’s all a trap a ploy, a never-ending race

the answers within, hidden behind the

empty gaze upon their faceless maze

we’ve lost the way

all called to help

stealing lines

to better myself

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