|
Regular Invasions
by J. P. DaviesIt's a flimsy excuse
for an existence,
when your world turns
to the sound of silence.
You sit and stare,
drinking in the walls,
knowing it's all they have
to offer tonight.
It slowly spins
out of your control,
as each stimulus compounds
and weighs itself heavier
onto your mind.
Knowing you'll wake
tomorrow to watch
the cycle manifest itself
upon your heart-torn-eyes.
Blinding you with regular invasions.
I guess that's why
you never sleep,
without the blue flicker
of your television
for a comfort blanket. 08/28/2004 Posted on 08/28/2004
Copyright © 2024 J. P. Davies
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/28/04 at 11:43 AM Saw much of myself in this one Jordan, especially the first and last stanzas. Touché mon ami! |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/29/04 at 01:23 AM This is so me at times Jordan, it's scary. Glad I revisited it. Thanks also for your comment on Nonchalance. Kudos! |
| 
