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The World's A Cold, Calculating Prose

The world's a cold, calculating prose
Often I'm up questioning the course
of my inability, the world and I don't
have any type of chemistry
and it shows
Confused and consumed
Then I realized the world's like a
forsaken and fallen tomb
I keep hearing the helpless calling
Or is that the echo
of my own misery in this empty room?
Feeling desperate and doom
The somber cries of a dying rose
lost somewhere in history
but that's how life goes
in this mystery,
In life you need your head on a swivel
When you think it'll swallow you whole
It just sits and nibbles
for what seems like an eternity
If I could go retrace my steps again
Maybe I wouldn't go where it snows
Or get caught up in the energy
that looms, I hope, but who knows
It's a part of life, it's a part of me
O cruel reality
squeezing the screams from my eyes
Somewhere between heaven and hell
my dreams lies,
Everything that has life lives
and then dies in this dead sea
Is this cold prose my enemy?
The sun does shine
But why is the world so hate filled and blind
toward the ordinary man's cries
and common civility?

Copyrights 2012
Robert Anthony James

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The World`s A Cold, Calculating Prose