stilldeadbeat-moreoriginal

[stilldeadbeat-moreoriginal]

Creatober Day 3: Flight of Artistics

A flock of artists flew past my window

Enchanting us with their arts and sparkles

They drew, they sang, they wrote, they danced

Some would do acts while some cuts their flash

In between, they shoulted down at us:

We lead our lives so. And laugh enough

-

I wish I could soar and reach their hands

To touch their streaks, even mingle in their forms

I have no wings to go up their hights

Not a strong wind to glid so swiftly

When I possess both, and look, alas

They will be gone, and torn us pieces

[stilldeadbeat-moreoriginal]

Creatober Day 1: Disinterest, of the self-regulated type

Disinterest is a state of mind

That can be reached easily

I just sit still for thrity seconds

And simulate a bit of coolness

Then I stop feeling, caring, tasting

like my mind left my body conscious

I could stare at the wall for hours

not moved even by muscle sourness

Or I could lay on a warm, soft bed

And not aroused by pretty men I like

Sometimes I think I could slit my wrist

And not flinch, but the image breaks this

Still I know I need no drug or drink

To journey to land of empty bliss.