Small Movements While Sorting Absent Thought

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Small movements while sorting absent thought
Surrealist painting hanging over the bedframe
Remaining warm with past subscriptions of the Dial
Shunning the past, but somehow still the same

I cannot make myself extroverted
I’ve never been a joiner; not very verbose
An overactive imagination & searching mind
Yet, outwardly I appear sullen & morose

I’m trying to crawl out of my own way
I’ve been a misogynist & a cynic; it’s all in the file
Shedding the weight of pessimistic sin
Yet some days I still wear a curmudgeon’s smile

You Don’t See Me

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You don’t see me when you look my way
Like a ghost – I just don’t seem to appear
Faded into the background of life
Unable to compete with all you hold dear

My kind smile & open arms aren’t a reality
Merely static in your fashion-conscious day
I’m over here trying to catch your eye
Yet my shadow is not even in your way

What more can I do to attract you

The uncool of America
Not enough flash
Eagerly & quietly industrious
But we’re still short on cash

You’re out here ridin’ high on your horse
I’m down here with my heart broken
You’re clearly oblivious to my existence
I wonder if you’ll ever be woken

Surviving By The Bright Light of Day

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Surviving by the bright light of day
Pouring coffee directly into my weary eyes
Can’t sleep at night since I must remain alert
Anxious; trying to hide my soul’s invisible cries

Gathering my wits to merely successfully exist
Waiting for the other shoe to drop & Hell to begin
Tired of cowering away in forgotten silence
Appearing strong since no one sees the enemy within