Still at shore with the weight of gaffes around my dreams

Afraid to set a course

At odds with all but how it seems

Perception sits on the thrown of what is

What is not cannot stand to the claims of what should be

With demise almost a certainty

Almost - becomes the theme that moves me

Fastened to procrastination

Circumventing the truth

Giving ear to assumptions

Off the tongue of a brute

Still at shore with my thoughts buried deep in the sands of time

Afraid to venture passed the limits of a mind

Institutionalized by the ideals of slavery

How is it that you are a subject to yourself?

So in love with maybes

That you give away a fortune

Because you are trying to ignore

Your fear of love’s ocean

By sitting on the shore


◄ Grey Skies

Stockholm Syndrome ►


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