What the fuck is inspiration?
Just me, sitting around,
With porcelain brainwashed dolls
That wear their hearts on their sleeves.
They stare at the T.V,
The news shows the same tragedies.
So tell me: what is inspiration?
How are we to come up with ideas
When everything around us is the same?
Muted colors, muddled voice
Telling us how to make our choices.
The people around me have mechanical
Monotone voices; strings on their joints,
Commanded by others.
None their own thoughts but everyone's troubles.
So please,
Will you tell me,
In our sad, tired world,
What is our inspiration?
YOU ARE READING
Screaming Through Oblivion
Poetry"Hell is other people." ~Jean-Paul Sartre. Always expect the worst- it eliminates disappointment. An odd collection of mostly depressing poetry, because I'm a depressed and depressing person.
