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.