dispirited

dispirited

why can't you see the flower i saw?
why can't you feel the pain of my wounded paw?
why can't you feel this mellow heart?

life is just like a wrecked pointing compass,
who only points at north,
and north is me.

what is the pleasure of spilling red paint?
is there fun speaking with poisonous saliva?
is it so great to make a soul sore?

why is the throne to be proud of?
why is the pride being celebrated?
and why is the reign being rejoiced?

when everything is just dark and haunting,
with no light to plight.

i am now sick of tales,
i am tall and strong,
like a man i should be.

yet i am too weary already,
too weary for the same treat a puppy dog has,
too weary to even feel for the heartbeats.