I ramble like a philosopher....too. c/c?

S

SIN

New member
I have loved to madness
I have grieved
beyond the bounds of sadness
unconceived
I have sacrificied my vanity
a suicide of sanity
beyond imagination
unappeased
my pen pretends to soothe me
with relief
a falsified condition
I believe
by writing woes I lessen
the pains of my condition
my pen contends that writing
is release
none of us are free
to be our dreams
despite the pills the booze
the nightmare screams
we mute remote reality
ignore moral validity
and none of us are ever
as we seem
 
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