Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Scuse me

Restless spirits
Spin around
In an erotic dance,
Fuelled
By the need
To do
Something
Instead
Of sitting
In a room
Full of inactive beings.
Scuse me,
As I spit
Words of venom.
Scuse me
As I enter
The abyss
Of complete anti-nirvana.
Scuse me
As I leave
And do something
I want to do,
Be something
I want to be.
Peace of mind
Is needed.

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