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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #1223259
I guess when reading this you could say "yes, but no"
I watched it just like a movie
As I shot the man who oppressed me
My limbs seemed not my own
As I ran to steal a new home

Now, as the light fades from the day
And I heave a sigh of forgiveness
I wonder who is controlling my brain
Who is the father of my thoughts

The spirit of a dead wanderer
Useful as long as he moves
Sit still and he will wither
Controlled by the tide of another

All apologies father
I can’t be like you
Your life I cannot live
I need to find control

I steal everything tangible
To reach that which cannot be
To feel what my mind really is
The air around me seems fake
It is fake in its own right
And nothing can be changed

If the realness of my thought
Could be as true as it seems
Then why can I not be taught
To feel like what I am is me

I apologize to my oppressor
As I move to kill my friends
The melancholy mistress
Of the truth which never ends
© Copyright 2007 Medulla Oblongata (evan.laird at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1223259-Not-Me