Vacant Room


Nauseous is the sense of all outcomes

Mixed with the wrong chemicals of our own product

Close encounter with sharp objects in the same room

Held up by disillusion

Vacant to our own advantage

Fill our own rooms

To things that please us

Unbalanced dreams hard to read

Then your words begin to become jumbled

Always out to push the envelop

Making your case

To solve new problems that may occur

Burdens that are drawn out to long

Trail of ignited gasoline

Leads to a heaped pile of filth

By: ObligatoryInsightPoet©


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