Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Detachment

Of course I’m not mad
I’m never mad
What is anger, anyway?
Just seems like it’s always an excuse for something else
Peoples own rage blown over in self satisfaction.
But I’m not happy about it, either
I’m certainly not pleased
My indifference is so extreme
It scares me
This action aroused no warmth,
I’m staring at my wall like a cracked blank slate
Devoid of hope or anything at all