A shell by any other word
is a object that protects
an object from harm.
The darkness in this shell
seems to only fester
rather then hatch like any
other bird.

I search for a possible
understanding of my brooding ways,
only to be rewarded with
more spite and rejection that
I could possibly handle.

All these moral codes of love
and dignity seem to fall apart.
Each day the darkness oozes
and grows inside my lifeless veins.
Sometimes I ponder if I should
let it flow out with a simple
flick of razor.

Sometimes I ponder if dreams
are merely nightmares covered
in a shell to protect us.
I don't know sometimes when my
head becomes so weary from
thinking to much about things.

They say that things come in
time or in certain times but not
your time, and sometimes they
say that I'm way to pathetic.
Maybe that is why I feel the
pulling of the grave.

One step in the living and
one step in the land of the dead.
I ponder is it worth being the quick
or could the dead be any better.
I wish I didn't have a heart half
the time to think about such trivial
matters.

I wish I didn't have a head
to clog my thoughts with such
grim thoughts about life.
I guess we all have to have a
shell to protect us all.

11/06/2003

Posted on 11/06/2003
Copyright © 2024 Christopher Shin