Tuesday August 28, 2007
The completion of a soul,
is merely a story untold.
I put on this daily facade,
and yet no one finds it odd.
The synical expression of oneself,
is yet another feeling just placed on the shelf.
Who is going to realize something is wrong.
The facade will provide coverage until I am gone.
How are you to know what I am feeling,
when you are constantly blinded by that which seems appealing.
This is not a warm little story by Dr Seuss.
This is my reality unleashed and cut loose.