Poem #318

And so we live.
Our inner ten year olds are ashamed of us.
But we still live.
Our freedom is shackled by the opinions of others.
But we still live.
Our days are a well played out routine.
But we still live.
We slayed our dreams with the knife called reality.
But are we still alive?

5 replies on “Poem #318”

At least we have coffee!! Since you are a creative writer you’ll probably love my blog about inspiring coffee shops, and how coffee influences in the creative process. In case you want to visit it:

I’m thinking you might enjoy an old song called “Dangling Conversations” by Paul Simon. You can google the complete lyrics if you like.

In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
The borders of our lives

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