nothing speaks,
nothing moves,
broken words surrounded
by lost worlds of stagnation,
breeding just outside
this silent door,
stripped of dignity,
smothered in sorrow,
growing shadows cast upon
the wall;
nothing is true,
nothing has value;
liars, hypocrites,
false and fake,
vain and pretentious,
self-righteous posers,
smiles and knowing looks,
full of pompous ignorance,
floating flakes of mist,
gone before dusty feet
hit the ground;
I cannot speak of
days gone by,
I can only speak of here,
I can only speak of now,
there are better places,
there are mysteries unknown,
there is more than what
is showing;
still I wait,
still I wait;
there is nothing left,
there is nowhere else,
the absurdity leaves
everything else behind;
still I wait,
still I wait.
.
.
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