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Pointless Finality
The light pours in grey. Through
the window with curtains pulled shit
so I can't see day.
You know I hoped for yellow.
This grey, so inbetween
the monotony of hue on a navy ship.
Swimming barracks, swimming prison.
Six months and you won't even remember who you are.
Your personality, a pointless finality,
Who are we?
Who cares?
Is there anyone with maintained sanity who still believes in Humanity?
The way your mouth closes when you're thinking, you open it and gasp like a fish drowned by air just to shut it again. It makes me sick.
poem
by
Margot Smith
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