I wrote half of it one night in my angst and confusion. Then I lost the progress and found it some time later, and finished it in my joy and thoughtfulness. It should be a treat to the emotions.
Abstract
In my anxiety I rot
And I plot
For what I sought
When I bought
Their lies
It shouldn't be a surprise
Just look in their eyes
You can see your demise
Answers in fine print
Oblivious to the hint
Life has a tint
To what we see as mint
Everything is there
So we stop and stare
We cannot compare
To what is contraire
Why are these lies fed
To the living among the dead
I wish I had fled
But by you I am instead
We wear ourselves out
Looking in and about
For what's under our snout
The wise ones just pout
So just stop and look
We're stuck in a book
Hidden in some nook
Where my story does cook
Though innocence once did stir
It vanished in a blur
These words I do murmur
Just ask him or her
This may make no sense
To those who are dense
Don't get so tense
My white picket fence
We're all just possessions
Of some sick obsession
That is my confession
Defiling is my profession
No point trying to decode what I say
Interpreting life is what I do everyday
Don't try and push me away
Because now and forever I am here to stay
Don't try to extract
The meaning of this contract
You might as well go back
This poem is Abstract
