Sanity walks with a limp today,
its shoes scuffed, laces undone,
staggering in daylight, squinting at shapes.
Some say it's a matter of angles,
how the light bends or tricks you.
The sidewalks whisper insults softly,
a flirtation with madness in every crack.
The coffee burns like a joke untold,
and no one notices the stains on shirts.
Perspective shifts like cheap whiskey does,
one sip, you're king; the next, crawling.
A dog's bark sounds like a sermon,
or maybe it's just noise holding hands.
The skyline crushes me with its irony,
glass and concrete screaming their silence.
Someone laughs too loud in the train car,
their face shapes into a suffocating mask.
You call this a world,
I call it a kaleidoscope of traps.
Which one's clearer, your eye or mine?
Maybe neither, maybe both, who cares.
-
Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: February 22nd, 2026 05:17
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Paul Bell
Offline)
Comments3
Deep insight into a world of perspectives a prism that reflects different colored light from different angles. It is in the eye of the perceiver that truth is proclaimed and time changes all. A lovely write so poetically done. Loved particularly the opening metaphor. A fave my friend
Thanks Soren I always appreciate your feedback and support brother
My pleasure Gray your poems are a pleasure to read
Yes I'm never sure if the madness is in the sanity, or the sanity is in the madness, but the world has went to hell and at the moment there's no way back.
Thanks for sharing your feedback Paul I appreciate it
This limps with bruised clarity—half revelation, half hangover from existing too hard.
You’ve caught the world mid-stagger, and it feels honest in all its crooked angles.
Thanks you brother I appreciate your feedback and support
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.