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Over It
January 16, 2013
I contemplate
thinking about forgetting the template.
I feast on knowledge’s plate.
I crave the answer.
I must open my mind,
to find the solution.
I take things to talk with illusions.
Real world’s fake so my relations are done.
When the end’s present,
my “friends” I resent.
Cause I’ve been rejected when all my love was sent.
We were made to sin,
destined for a life of shame.
We live with nothing to gain.
I’m done playing this game.
© Kathleen O., Jim Thorpe, PA
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