Thursday, August 7, 2008

Real

My physical,
My mental.
My emotional,
Its all coincidental.

I have real tears.
Eyes blink.
My hand hurts from writing,
So fast my mind is racing.

Is that physical?
I lose my thought.
That was me that hurts,
Something bad is out there.

My pay for my talent and genius,
It makes me.
I am real, very realistic.
All this around me I feel.

It hurts like no other pain,
I wish it would.
I wish I could make it go away.
I wish I could.

I am hurt and hungry,
I'm always losing.
Losing is a waste of time,
Our time is money.

Winning the war is everything.
I will not lose,
You hear me?