PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

"The ghosts of in the mirrors smile as if recognize this empty place that I call home alone
isolation theories of existence of flood my mind underneath the influence
o f galaxies and places I only dream of.

I scream as I am led back to small path to reality
woe is me
woe is me
get me out of my mind.
I am laying awake trying to drift into timeless sleep.
I choose life I choose life.

I sleep with my cloths on for I am afraid I will freeze in the empty place I call home
bring me back to light bring me back to life
is it too much to ask for?

The job of the artist is not to succumb to overwhelming emotions.
but to find an antidote to the emptiness of existence.
This is my purpose this is my existence
I choose life I choose life

I choose...
bad dreams daymeres night terrors
tremble at the sound of silence
I am a ghost for everything near has disapeared.
friends famailies places towns memories all lost in my mind.
In my mind I am flooded with dreams of silence I choose and bliss of cloud nine
its not what it seems the grass was never green I choose life
I grow weary as night passes into day.
Its too late. all that repeats is its too late.

reapers and daggers fall one to broken forgotten prisons of forgotten words in my existence
I trudge through deserts searching for sand
I plunge into oceans suffering from dehydration
what is up is down and what is down is up.
searching for the purpose of good luck.

alone I break away from reality into flight or fight insanity
at the cost of time and money
Gasping for air I seem to find my path only to see a dead end.
I am stuck in the labyrinth of my mind,
rescue me
rescue me
I am stuck in the labyrinth of the roads of life
rescue me
rescue me
I choose life."