By Arcassin Burnham
From 9 to 5 we stay alive to see the new day,
Never minding all the mishaps and over
Crowding all of our options,
Believing in love as it sprouts from the air waves,
And planning weird things ,
Making up all these strange concoctions,
Experience the eager ways of creation,
Like exploring ones body or
Seeing how a butterfly soars,
Spreading sadness over the nation in
Memorial of someone,
Nothing like seeing those drops pour,
Or..............
.... to be left without nothing,
At least I'm useful for something when I was never
Taken quite seriously,
When times was as hard as the epitome of ever being born,
Where's the kid in me?
And Everytime I make a new enemy they think that they could
All get the best me, apart from the phobia I've got hidden in me,
There's not as much faith in this world left for me.
- Author: Arcassin Burnham (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: October 12th, 2016 11:29
- Comment from author about the poem: ©ABPoetry2016 http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/10/left-without.html
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
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