when i was young
i was told i had a beautiful imagination
who would have thought
the exact same people who admired my creation
would be the people
who led to its deterioration
i clung tight to it
but after years of assimilation
i lost my resolve
my determination
forced to shove that part of me deep into my mind
in desperation
now i am numb, empty
with no inspiration
and they all complain
that i lack motivation
little do they know it is their fault
that my life is nothing but a simulation
and that im only truly living
in my dreams, my hallucinations
they provide nothing to me
but frustration
i cannot feel it anymore, that thing i loved so much
the feeling of fascination
e.m.b
YOU ARE READING
late nite poetry
PoetryThis is a collection of poems that I've written between the times of 12 am and 5 am because for some reason that's the only time I can actually write semi-decent poetry. Enjoy.
