Hope?

The razors edge hold my soul at knifepoint
Slowly scrapping at the essence of my being
The words it speaks adds to the confusion strangling my mind
All this as i try and listen to you talk
About topics otherwise known as small talk

With every breathe i take i confront the lies
Of previous generations
And as i lay i know sleep is but an illusion
That collides and feeds this dillusion that so many call life
Where will end?

Hope?

Michael  Harvey

Elwood, Australia

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