Bonus Poem of the Week: Autopilot

Autopilot
July 2, 2015

You breathe and bleed like other folks.
You eat and sleep as well,
But inside your head,
You’re damn near dead—
A special kind of hell.

If your brain’s working, you can’t tell,
And yet, it’s heavy like lead
With a constant drone
Like an ever-ringing phone
With the information it’s been fed.

You can barely remember that which has been said,
Even words that were your own.
You mess tasks up as well
Where others fare well
‘Cause the humming won’t leave you alone.

Thankfully, there’s a way to once again own
Your mind from this sick joke:
Slow down and think well
In spite of the swell
Before your brain goes up in smoke.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com

                          Amazon.com

                          Amazon.co.uk

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s