Indecision Screams

The depressing times that stay

in worlds that envelop every soul

dry moisture we eat so happily

in processed buildings

or processed meat

or processed men

Atlantis is not far 

but somehow forgotten

in infinite bliss

so close it seems

past these red lockers 

that stare so fiercely 

at our worlds, our decisions

so close it seems

past these windows 

to the cold that sits

to us who feel

or want to fell

try to feel

but it all falls flat

and I'm sorry for the words

that run past my thoughts

into this page

that I can't hear

that no one can hear

unless they want to, of course

but the shutters are closed

and we're trapped in Thoreau's thought

packaged roads and hard cased desks

underneath hard cased minds

It's an obvious decision for one one

I just want to hear the birds that sing

in plastic forests

on television screens

I just want to see the sounds of my music

on the computer's abstract thought

that thinks for us

So I write the words I can't hear

and I hear the words I think

but it's all far gone

as we sit here with other thought

Yes they try to teach us,

but we don't care

when infancy is so, so, close

to all our five senses

We feel no one's thought

unless our own,

of course

and unless we want to,


The End

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