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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #1912155
A poem about being cumbersome.

-Cumbersome-
by
Keaton Foster

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Large
Rude
Vociferous buffoon
Always with something to say
Only speaking to deaf people
Every damn one of them is
Perfectly capable of hearing
They just stand there with
Their hands over their ears
I have something to impart
Equivalent to a virus
I wish to make them just as sick
I wish to infect them with an idea
A human stain of our unified ways
We all belong to the same ideal
A concept that is real
While everything else
Seems unmistakably fake
I am part of the system
A cog in the machine
Continually breaking down
Displaying an error message
No one dares to read
No hand lends an ounce of oil
Along we all somehow keep
When in reality we should be still
Motionless, unable, unwilling
Life, such an implausible feeling
Cumbersome
Really hard to carry
A weight that should be
Burdened by none
Difficult to deal
Impossible to conceal
Everyone should know
And if they don’t
Then ignorance is bliss
I wish I could be so dumb
I wish I could care much less
But my god of ruin gave me
Such an unwanted gift
No one would ever dare ask
No one would ever dare want
But regardless of that here I am
Living, seeing, being cumbersome
The weight is at most times unbearable…




Cumbersome
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013

© Copyright 2013 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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