The pumping of your heart indicates that you live.
Yet your eyes tell me otherwise.
You eat, sleep, and breathe.
But you don't savor, dream, or think.
Your mind is a cloudy, hazy, void where one thought starts, but never finishes.
You walk through life defenseless and ignorant.
The stillness of your limbs confirms the lack of awareness.
Like you are safe and secure.
Like you are peaceful and pleasant.
But I know you are none of those things.
You are cold, bitter, rotten, and dirty.
And you will remain that way.
Until I join your thoughtless group,
You will remain waiting . . .
Blankly.
YOU ARE READING
Nocturnal Musings
PoesiaShort little things I write. They're usually things I think of when I'm in a thoughtful mood. They're not that good but I try my best.
