Tuesday, January 28, 2003

Incongruent Surfaces
In this conquest of wit
I am concentrating
I am debating
To find words to fit

My pen is ponderous
Words are weightless
Words are senseless
I deduce nothing wondrous

Only this tree
And my mind know
Where all thoughts go
Worrying me

This chronicle of falsity
Is mental perfection
Without direction
I judge hypocritically

I exclude the external
I plunder my reputation
Decaying my dedication
I resist the eternal

I give no praise
I take no compliment
To my mind a detriment
This permanent phase

This poem was written by me, Adam.

posted by Adam @ 7:31 PM Comments: 0