Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site


Submitted:Apr 24, 2012    Reads: 13    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

I feel so trapped in foreign will,

just a rat inside a cage,

under a microscope,

waiting to be surveyed,

I feel so lost in shameless war,

under the rug that is my life,

I'm just a line upon the page,

or a sign along the road.

I'm an animal,

I'm an animal.

I chase only my desires,

but they are to high to reach,

I lose my head on Friday nights,

I like my image sad and torn,

I wake up dry and empty,

close my eyes sad and slow,

I sleep in empty rooms,

filled with my own false hope

I'm an animal,

I'm an animal.

This house was built for caving in,

rigged for a fall the shape I'm in,

is not a place to be,

it seems so strange to me,

How I can't supply myself,

with the tools to save my life,

walking on troubled feet,

I fall to the ground.


| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list


About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.