There is no freedom
There is no destiny
God fuck america
God fuck himself
There is no reality
There is no self
But thinking about it
Makes no human "sense",
Life is confusing
Is not clear enough
We are not different
From the dead stuff
Yet we are complex
We do homeostasis
But we are so helpless
With existential crisis
Our thoughts and actions
Obey a higher power
It's not in the heavens
It's in our hell
Neurotransmitters
Sheer mental disorder
Emotions and feelings
You can not tell,
We call civilized human
Who can hide them better
YOU ARE READING
"pseudo-poemas"
PoetryNo soy poeta, ni mucho menos soy un artista, pero me gusta escribir en prosa y de vez en cuando involucrar algunos sentimientos y pensamientos en lo que escribo
