November 5, 2024

The Settlers….

Frantic grasping at a straw like theory

Blowing bubbles into a mind that’s weary

Holding onto the flimsy roots

Of a half trashed object found in car boots

Wondering around in an avatar frame

Pondering why your results are the same

Your focus is on a relationship script

That stems from a condition the masses have sipped

Why the obsession to be defined by another?

Your happiness sits in you like a full bodied mother

Waiting to birth your truth and your vision

To steer you away from a constant collision

Crying at night because you sit alone

Settling for anything that sets a familiar tone

Your eyes are searching for perfection in soul

When what lies within is the root to your goal

Panic stricken by confused intention

You end up as part of a messy dissection

Self neglect for the sake of deception

So you can prove your not on the shelf of rejection

A minor oversight with a major lesson

Leaves you stranded and dazed from mass sedation

Believing in pleasure whilst experiencing cessation

Cant you see through this soul degradation?

 

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