the year of lyrics: a poetry project

my search for inner-peace, one poem at a time

Day 88 – Not So Fast

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What are these? Plans?
Plans – in the wrong hands.
Spun out of control.
Balancing on fingertips.
And when I say this, I mean it.

So, what is it that you want?
You tell me all these things,
All these stars in your clenched fist,
Brief gleams of hope,
But in the smallest sense:
They’ll never emerge again

Do you hear the volume of my voice?
The exasperated sighs and
Incredulous cries
Urging for the planets to realign
And maybe then
You can hear the strength
The screams
And shouts
(That suppress your doubts)
So, what do you think I’m yelling for?
Just to listen to my own thoughts?

Yeah it’s timeless,
Your personal violence,
Cutting through the shyness
Overpowering the silence

Your next step:
Reduce your consumption of
Isolated hatred
And pass up that side of self-pity
No one needs an opinion
That appears painless
For without pain
You’re hopeless
Understand this?


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