I'm just wasting time now

I've met my word count quota for the day

I know there's nothing left, but the feeling is there

It cascades through me, an aurora demanding,

Needing,

Screaming

To be released.

My life is a game now

And I appear to be losing

There's nothing I can do, and I know it

So I'm trapped on the inside,

Needing,

Screaming

To be released.

You care, or you say you do

Perhaps I just imagined it, put words in your mouth

You never did say you had this pent up emotion

Needing,

Screaming

To be released.

Life has no synonyms, for practicality's sake

There's nothing close to human, with our

Angst and depression, our poetic aspirations

Caged feelings, suppressed acceptance

Needing,

Screaming

To be released.

Toddlers held too long in the embrace of a mother

A drug-addicted, suicidal teen dressed in black

A middle-aged man in a red Ferrari

An anarchist group fed up with bureaucracy

Needing,

Screaming

To be released.

The souls of the damned in eternal pain

The spirits of the saints driven insane by bliss

A tube-fed grandmother in her last few days

An unborn baby begging for a chance at life

Needing,

Screaming

To be released.

It's all the same, all human fabrication

We recognize it and can't dissuade it

We're shrouded in mist, enveloped by war

And through it all, we're alone, each

Needing,

Screaming

To be released.