Auto Pilot Poem, by Reyas, at My poetic side

I’m on auto pilot,

I’m not in control.

I’m helpless,

My freedom is sold,

My life is in the hands of another,

They mingle with my friends, my love, my mother,

However none of them notice it’s not me,

It’s obvious how could they not see?

Perhaps they honestly don’t care?

Because what does it matter if I’m not there?

I wasn’t anything important anyways am I right?

Well have fun flying, im going, good night.

dusk arising July 21st, 2018 13:44
I rekkon this is what it must be like on some of those drugs that alter you but youre still there inside wanting to be who u really are.
Quite frightening. A disturbing, enthralling write.... thought provoking

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