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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #1974516
A short and certainly weird poem about a question I really don't wanna ask...

-What Do You Do?-
by
Keaton Foster

*Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5*



What do you do?
A question
The answer
Reprehensible
In scope
In matter
Every detail
Each word
Increasingly
Makes me sadder
Much much madder
I can’t get a break
Because I allow none
For myself and others
I am my own crux
My own terrible truth
There is of course
Little that I can do
I know
I am aware
I understand
One day real soon
Both my head and heart
Will explode
Boom!
I’ll be left in a mess
From those shadows
Fate will scream
Clean this shit up
What do you do?
I’m of course asking
But quite truthfully
I don’t want to know
It’s just small talk
The work of the devil
Chit chat
Should be called bull crap
I just don’t want
To hear a single word
Not a God damn sound
I am not concerned
Nor will I ever be
Too soon to hate you
Is there a time requirement
A point when justified
By those unjustifiable
What do you do?
Wait, I don’t care
I do not resent
What it is you have
Or where it is you are
Well maybe
I have other fish
Plenty to fry
Other humans
To further and further deny
I don’t really love anyone
Heck I don’t love me
Empty
Is all that I seem
And in my case
Reality is astonishingly real
When everything is not
I am lost
But I was never found
I am in between
Where are you?
What do you do?



What Do You Do?
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014

© Copyright 2014 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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