I can’t help doing nothing
the world is droll there is nothing of interest now
i’m stuck in the inertia of rest now
my emotions have peaked, my senses fatigued
there’s nothing that i love or detest now
the moon’s ablaze, wispy clouds have flitted away
a peculiar lunacy has made its way into my chest now
too high up i sit, this doesn’t feel like a gift
i must thrash and kick myself out of this nest now
all thoughts feel bogged, the heart has overextended from its job
a referee is needed to stop this internal contest now
the petty worries pile over, none of them ever getting older
it is my own ideas in my head that are the pest now
baggy eyes, cramped thighs every inch of my body cries
this rest is fatal; we covet some work
some unrest now
Posted Sep 3, 2020, 10:13 PM UTC
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