Sunday, July 3, 2011


I don't know if I'm doing right
I don't see how I'm not,
Yet there's so much emptiness beneath
the plotline life revolves.
I feel I've fastened myself to
a crowded conveyor belt line,
where every broken piece moans
about it's contiunal lack of time.
All the pices built the same
progress towards ends pit,
Amd once the end is known, the pieces recede,
into a state of passive panic.

If only they could realize, a piece is only a part.
The bigger picture expands far beyond what is seen or taught.
I've tried to come up with what it is, i'm meant to become a part of,
but all I see is people projecting what's considered normal:
Broken records playing out the repetitive stream of routine,
They all seem to get confused with how things are and how things seem
so seemingly obvious that everything is obviously completely fine,
as long as there is a coffee break,
and an uneventful nine-to-five.