Soar above the world.
Into the skies.
Into space.
And from here it can be seen
that all the world is hollow.
Humans are little more than sheep.
Blindly following the leader.
The latest fads, the newest sounds.
Follow the piper playing his
ballads of false change.
It is hollow. Empty.
Is there meaning anywhere?
Or is it all just hollow?
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Hollow #2
Posted by Master of Puppets at 1:58 PM
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1 comments:
My hollow heart fills up with tears...
Quite the sorrowful poem, eh? Try something more chipper. I have to do one as well.
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