stonerfromohio
Bluelighter
Convey my feelings
With symbols on the page
Pluck thoughts streaming through this prison cage
I Repress this rage
Its boiling up trying to poke its dirty head
From beneath the layers long since repressed
Dressed with convenient lies
To hide all the suffering away
But it will reside somewhere in the abyss
Lying dormant till awakened
To roar its wailing sound
The ego chained and bound
Id sooner wish to be dead
Than confront the pain consumed within my head
These words just fed this stormy nightmare
Why is this happening to me its not fucking fair
Did your mom not tell you its not polite to stair
Humans judge people like prize horses
If your bones don’t protrude visible as day
Then beauty is not wrought in your way
Bony faces of the insecure
Running on treadmills like pet rodents
Trod along polluted with false ideologies
And dead peoples ideas about the truth
Plucking the keyboard 9-5 in a cubicle of despair
Millions of windows filled with sad faces
Endless worn out places
Expressionless exasperated traces of people
My friends hate each other but just got married in a steeple
This world is feeble
And im lost in a stable of hate for the orthodox
And consumed within this paradox
It seems I want it another way
But each day I waken and it remains the same
Is God to blame
For waking me each day
Sometimes I question is it worth crawling out of bed to repeat the cycle?
With symbols on the page
Pluck thoughts streaming through this prison cage
I Repress this rage
Its boiling up trying to poke its dirty head
From beneath the layers long since repressed
Dressed with convenient lies
To hide all the suffering away
But it will reside somewhere in the abyss
Lying dormant till awakened
To roar its wailing sound
The ego chained and bound
Id sooner wish to be dead
Than confront the pain consumed within my head
These words just fed this stormy nightmare
Why is this happening to me its not fucking fair
Did your mom not tell you its not polite to stair
Humans judge people like prize horses
If your bones don’t protrude visible as day
Then beauty is not wrought in your way
Bony faces of the insecure
Running on treadmills like pet rodents
Trod along polluted with false ideologies
And dead peoples ideas about the truth
Plucking the keyboard 9-5 in a cubicle of despair
Millions of windows filled with sad faces
Endless worn out places
Expressionless exasperated traces of people
My friends hate each other but just got married in a steeple
This world is feeble
And im lost in a stable of hate for the orthodox
And consumed within this paradox
It seems I want it another way
But each day I waken and it remains the same
Is God to blame
For waking me each day
Sometimes I question is it worth crawling out of bed to repeat the cycle?
