Memoirs Chapter – 15

This isn’t the real talent

This is just exaggerated lament

But that’s what it does

Making you dependent

Think you can hold it

For much longer

I think that it’s fading away

But it’s already shading away

What about the calmness

That I brought you

Was it all for nothing

Did I ever rob you

Then why do you wish

To discard your whims

I might be the solution

To your ever increasing problems

You’ve got to run, gotta fight

You can do it, if you try

But you are always out of breath

When you’re rushing for a length

You say creativity

Is just another anomaly

Now you can see the mirage clearing

And still everything is so shining

I guess sometimes

You need a little push

To help you decide

There is no rush

There are people

Who care about you

Worry about you

Show them what you’re made of

You can feel yourself burning

And this anger growing

So you punch a mirror

To let one remain

But it’s still there

So you punch another

And then another

I don’t feel

Your need anymore

Now that I know

Exactly how you breed

But how will you justify

Who is the one that writes

Till the time

It is I who writes

You are a perception

My very own creation

So who do you think

Is the one who writes

You took me for a stooge

And I will never lose

To a tool for depressant

Which is just too pleasant

I trusted you with my thoughts

Then you began to sought

Your very existence

With no resistance

Maybe that’s what addiction is

Rising when, the persistence dims

And by that thought

The mirrors start to break

Cracks began to disappear

And it is I, who finally appears…


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