May 24, 2007
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The Journey
It sets in like the sundown
Darkness, fresh air and crickets
If only it would last
It’s when nothing needs to get done
It’s when I can sleep even though I don’t
Because I don’t want tomorrow to come
It’s the grief over not doing what I want to
Not Proud. Not Happy.
This isn’t even who I am
I am nothing, a void.
It is emptiness.
It is stress.
It makes me tired, as it doesn’t let me rest.
It’s never arriving.
Wherever we go, there we aren’t.
The breeze through the window can’t be felt
Because the window is closed.
Comments (4)
Holy crap, I thought I'd been on Xanga for a while now, but you've been here since 2000!!! Now I just feel like the Next Generation Xangan. Keep up the good work!
i bet that comment made you feel better. heh.
man, this is somber for you. i'm used to being uplifted here. looks like you're the one needing those thermal drafts which scavengers and raptors so love to soar on, eh?
ryc: i dig feingold, too. but i think he does a good job of getting shit done right where he is.
you see Pro folks are looking up to you. hope they read some of your old essays. enjoyed your poem. hope you find time to write again soon.
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