deepundergroundpoetry.com
The pines
Words can be so empty
Feel so shallow
In amongst the pines of the mind
Its just.
Is something wrong with me
Feeling at home
When im so lost
As if walls and real feelings
Have always been misgivings
And thoughts
Just another little way to die
Another half dozen needles of torture
Unscrupulous love needles
That need to be cleaved
Disassociated or disguised
Feel so shallow
In amongst the pines of the mind
Its just.
Is something wrong with me
Feeling at home
When im so lost
As if walls and real feelings
Have always been misgivings
And thoughts
Just another little way to die
Another half dozen needles of torture
Unscrupulous love needles
That need to be cleaved
Disassociated or disguised
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