tired of the laughter

and the nice things

~

i  say, while

potent poison brews within

~

and makes me immune

to myself

and my hatred for

all that is pure.

~

It is not a thought if

it requires thinking, and

~

it is not yours if

it requires searching for.

~

Oblivion is heaven for

those who trade dreams

~

for drugs and passion for

momentary dazzle.

~

Tired of the laughter, the joy,

the put up smiles and

~

this facade. What’s it called?

Life?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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