Owed to a Wasteful Life.
I sit unable to sleep, bathed in blue C.R.T. light
the ghosts of my dead children howl
yet to be brought into a world
much worse for my coming than going.
our dead children pile up,
and we burn them alive.
…is it just me, or is it getting harder and harder to cope? Am I the only one who has trouble sleeping at night, plauged by a constant screaming in the back of my skull? A voice so loud the pressure threatens to boil over and melt my eyes like candle wax? Is it just me...or is coping about all that can be done any more. Cope. No more hope. No more light at the end of the tunnel.
Just Coping.
If all there is left is coping, why bother?
LEGEND
