02:05:24 [poems of a schizophrenic jailbird]

10

Hard to reach.
The suns glaze, shimmers here
a steady melange, ripples around my form
regalia of false hopes, pass
memories, fill my hero authentic?
horizons I travel, never reaching
no substance to this dram
my mind, leaves, ventures where?
milk drops fall, a stark white contrast
the slow sense, detachment compels
just wisps of dreams, I venture now

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(Broken) vase.
Vernacular restrains the service
a turn of cheek, swallow, forlorn
stole, the envy's taste, how meek
equal only to yourself, I, obsequious
an empty vessel.

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