F o c u s

Poetry 1 - Futility

Prisoner in my own world. I lock myself away in my own restrictions, My own shackles

I can’t think now Peaceful serenity disrupted by life

If you can call it that Cool winds breeze through me

Stimulating my soul Nothing stops

Nothing stands still It is all moving toward failure

Its a road block only a task YOU can perform What an insignificant spec our lives really are

I’m locked in a dungeon and i can’t get up.

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