Untitled Poem #2002

Posted: January 11, 2002 in Poetry
Tags: ,

My freedom is a burden; I have no direction
Automaton, I am missing vital instructions.
I think I know just what I must do
But I cannot seem to pull myself through
This wasteland of broken mirror shards,
A painting I thought I had painted so hard
That the quality was enough to last a while
But I hear the click of the statistics turnstile.
I hear those close freed by this decision
An am thankful that they withheld their derision.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s