Sorry That I Haven't Written

I'm so sorry that I haven't written, but realities have come to live
as friends
Their clamorous banging on the bedroom door distracted me
They saw though my pretentious ruse of being fast asleep
Unceremoniously escorted me back to where I used to live before
Backwards flashing to an eight track tradition, this condition of my
heart
Triggered winter's chill in springtime, how much longer will it
last

I thought to write of gaily decorated feelings, but they left for
realms unreal
Now I'm an unenlisted voyeur to my paltry life, suits me fine
I'm reluctant to participate when sorrow, pain, and hardships
Are its only set of rigid rules and hard-nosed regulations

What does life mean..what can it mean
If my soul's endangered when I ask the mainframe questions
Relinquished answers are an onslaught, puzzles trapped in myriad
mazes
Forming useless maps that lead me to tempestuous doctrines, hotch pot
turbulent nowhere

Words of mass delusion rock my uncomfortable tired brain
God grant me the gracious gift of being empty, vacant, and emotionally
blank
Passing out of earthly existence, an unoccupied dwelling, simply
lacking, numb to the bone

P. S. The only thing that saves me now is to write of all I feel to
you