Sunday, November 7, 2004

cry me a river, miss fitzgerald.

i stood in shadows in dismal silence
awaiting for gradual shapeshifts
shifted was only the vessels of too hollow
like any empty apartment
i chose to sit upon these partitions
because i too, havent been very sure
so in the dark
i smiled, i cried and i waited
but my conscience crept to me
like a pre-diagnosed prescription
deceived, in a disguise of deception
it was clear that this was no redemption
it was clear that this was not going to happen
as i peered into my own reflection
once, i was contented
perhaps i was oblivious of the coming consequences
because i felt i had a choice
and that choice was all mine
but i had asked for the stars
no, there is not going to be any big bang revolution
and on only 2 feet wasnt going to be any solution
and with this, thoughts cease
hope ceased
you cease.






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