Trip To The Edge
They keep adding complications
More and more each and every time
Say they want us
Then breaking us apart
Bits by bits
Part to part
They dislocate us…
Trying to fix, what they
Don't want to see
Keep trying my dear ones
The day will come when
We are called on
Needed by the real
Time is ticking away
Keep stalking
Stalling, still talking
I'm moving away
To the farthest place
Where you will never
Find me… Ever.
Gone,
Gone with the flowing wind
Lost in the complicated mazes
Hidden completely inside the sane
Flying with sense,
intact.
poem by Pamuditha Zen Anjana
Added by Poetry Lover
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