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    dots Submission Name: Parrot Script and Sanitydots

    Author: col13x
    Elite Ratio:    2.26 - 119/300/559
    Words: 446
    Class/Type: Poetry/Longing
    Total Views: 336
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2780


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    dotsParrot Script and Sanitydots

    This persona, picks up the mask he placed beside the bed
    And the actor, feels the lines he’s already read
    They hang their syllables on his tongue
    As they breath into his lungs
    Answered by a soft restraining sigh
    As he buries the reasons why
    He no longer wants to be a part of this

    It’s a footstep, taken through a place he no longer feels apart of
    As he is cut by the angles of the brick
    As they force their intrusion with their ugly, scraping intercepts
    While his eyes hunger for the leaves
    He hangs poised between their branches
    Floating through the spaces between the grass blades
    And sees the prison bars
    Everything, including him constructed

    This persona, so ready in its plastic skin of parody
    Hopes that it appears to be an acceptable front for normality
    But behind his hungry eyes
    His separation dances in the skies
    He’s not crazy in the spin, but some insanity beckons him
    As the prison bars grow wider
    If he could only just step through
    And release himself from all the things
    He thought he knew

    As the day break, drips onto the essence of sublime
    But his heart ache, tells him that he really doesn’t have the time
    The repeat run between the gears
    And his place amongst the cogs and wheels
    Smoothly jerk upon the performance of their strings
    Just like the puppet of himself, his day begins
    While every piece of litter he calls his dreams
    Are blown into the shadows in his soul

    The eyes see, but they don’t see anything anymore
    They are a horizon, on a beach of some distant forgotten shore
    While he hungers for the trees
    The open fields where nature breathes
    He fights to break his own perception
    Alone in a prison cell of his own making
    Every thing about him is scratched into the unyielding brick

    His persona, so ready in its organization of plastic skin
    Prays that he executes a well played part in normalities theatre
    But behind the sadness in his eyes
    All he was has slowly turned to lies
    When he touched upon the truth every person keeps inside
    The desperate aching in everybody’s heart
    To be free of all the deceit
    Which stole their lives, from the very start

    And as the prison bars grow ever wider still
    He asks for the strength to just let go
    He prays for the courage to step through
    And pick up all the litter of his dreams
    And release himself from all the things
    He thought he knew

    Submitted on 2011-06-06 07:16:58     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!

    ||| Comments |||
      I read thru that slowely and it seems like a very well done potrial of faking being happy.

    I dont know why poeple dont comment anymore.

    It seems like a write like this would get some one to comment. I am sorry that it did not.

    I will admit that the trade marked stuff seems a bit out of place, maybe I dont get the reference.

    Also this seems more like song lyrics or Interpitave art, than poetry.

    "All he was has slowly turned to lies"

    Make that line not seem so redundant.

    I liked reading it.
    | Posted on 2011-06-06 00:00:00 | by snacky fish | [ Reply to This ]

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