It’s foggy, it’s numbing, it’s frightfully dense,
This mood upon waking, is not making sense,
I try to remember, but nothing retains,
I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.
Not angry, nor anxious, just bland to the thought,
Too dulled for misgivings, to slow to retort,
The pressure is deep, I’m asleep at the reins,
I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.
The horse has now bolted, the reins are a flap,
I’m dazed and I’m powerless, reading this map,
My eyes are all clouded, I’m fastened by chains,
I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.
Constricted emotions, I feel like the dead,
Are wandering fruitlessly round in my head,
A zombie drug, nonsense, society claims,
I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.
A look that is hollow, a voice that won’t speak,
A haunted demeanour that shadows the weak,
My heart feels abandoned, so little remains,
I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.
I long for the days where I tiptoe through time,
My mind all agog, like a Dr. Seuss rhyme,
Replenished with love on the happiness train,
Alas there’s still concrete, that runs in my veins.
© The Complicated Bunny – 13 Oct 2020
The Complicated Bunny 