Drowning goldfish

I have spent a life of drowning goldfish,
Verve viewed from the internal workings of this pint glass, Empty and dry,
A life of insignificancies as to not have happened at all, Never measured by any scale know to man,
I suffer alone this journey I stumble,
Drowning goldfish as I go,
Dealers and landlords profiteering from my woe, Living in solitude within this chaotic mind, Roaming through synapses of my tattered and fragile psyche, Screaming,
Quiet nights in with goldfish to drown, Perpetuated through fear of mankind,
So irrelevant I could not even dispose of this being,
But slashing my throat my only escape, Living behind bars of my own intellect, Imprisoned by this mentality,
To live a life drowning goldfish,
As I wander though,
Never noticed bar the shudder,
As I cross another grave,
I am the chill on autumn winds,
Frost on mornings of spring,
You see me in the blackest of dreams,
The never man looking for colour,
I live to drown fish of gold,
In wasted years I hide,
Look through this mirror and call my name,
From purgatory I will cross,
But never to give myself in substance,
Just the veneer,
Of a cheap table,
My tears heard in echoes of the windows of summer storms, The flicker in the corner of an eye,
But still another night of drowning goldfish,
Is my name shouted on October gales,
Is it me that rattles the shrunken wooden frames,
Am I the apparition that crawls across your nocturnal form, Prostrate and foetal in no resistance, I am the drowned in a life of kicking heals,
Am I the imagination of my own overactive dreamings, Am I my own darks worst nightmare,
But for now I will go,
I have goldfish to drown.

Its all about doing the same thing, sleep, work, drink, sleep, work, drink, repeat. Its about wasting the precious life that we have been given on nothing.

Purple Heart perfume atomiser. More on Bespoke Woods Facebook page
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