I honestly forgot I had this. But it's good...no one ever checks it.
There's something about typing. It's theraputic. Keyboard Therapy anyone?


Being alone with frenzied employment
Secures my hopes as too far gone.
Echoes of a trip to conforming sea-ward
Exhausts every land I cross.
My colors then scream in the pitch,
Wallowing in mindless mazes
While Krogering we go,
To the isles to glean
Our lives conflict and contract;
We are alone.


Boredom sweeps in. Randomly emotions clog my life and I need glasses. That's just how my poems work sometimes.