Thursday, November 17, 2005

I died, a while ago,
but live on by memory,
of how i used to do things,
and nobody knows I've gone,
which is nice sometimes

But then I start to despise
those who can't see the real
A scornful ghost
Not scaring to impress
Just laughing, ocassionally depressed

Even death is just a joke
For the living blind
And my hatred discovers irony
As my spirit finds a nuanced shade

2 comments:

100hands said...

my God, so beautiful. you should write more. dont stop.

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