Poems from the
Inside
Seek
the light of day . . .
Reflections
Things are always different
things are ever changing
looking through reflections
one gets lost
in a mad house made of glass
one throws stones
but the stones must be much bigger
just go home
sit there in your room and do not cry
feel the hollow emptiness deep inside
don't go near the fun house
it's not fun
the madman in the shadows has a gun
it is only made of words that make you run
chasing ever after after shadows without sun
I am such a fool - I should not play
it is contagion to the senses and the mind
we are only tools unto the blind
people using people as their tools
to read behind a lip that has not moved
I am lost within this madness
i've gone hatless
and my mind
is the software to a winking neon sign
the people are a pigment
on a canvass made of lies
broken on the pavement
bleeding open
dip the brush
before they dry.
I should just unplug
but we are all connected
there is no plug
Poems from the inside
seek the light of day
there is no plug
there are people who are starving
feed the poor
their dying has a flavor
we can savor
feed the poor
I cannot unplug
we are all connected
there is no plug
omy god i'm screaming
there's no plug
we are all connected
there's no plug
omy god i'm screaming
we are all connected
there's no plug
omygod im screaming
am i dreaming
there's no plug
© D. Winter
November 24, 2007
