Tuesday, 23 November 2010

Here's, to us.

What is there to celebrate when I feel disconnected?
Falsely holding on to illusions, truthfully knowing letting go would not hurt as much.
Who am I fooling,
Common sense, a tool utilized by the few.
The admittance souring the tip of my tongue, my eyes shall water in the process,
My face shall screw
Head shake
Denial struck, fighting what army when they all lay exposed,
not in defence, not attacking,
they are just, there.
What is there to celebrate when I feel disconnected.
Wires now separate, sadly, as ignorance settles, we all gather dust.

A toast.

To what was.