Grow another delusion
For me, about me
Why ever not?
Who's to say?
Maybe it feels good
Too needy to stop
Needy for what?
Too desperate to halt
Desperate for what?
Scratching, Clawing
Can't get out
Can't get in
Can't let go
He's a stalker
Grow another delusion
For me, about me
His heads aching
As it's spinning
He's latched onto
The fading air
Of his glorious
Perpetual dishonor
The empty tide
A vacant space
Back to the center
And out again
A current swirls
Faster than licks
Of brother's switch
Who's famous?
Whose renown?
Not the stalker
Spinning to zero
Flushing his love
And grinding his life
"Down the louvre."
By Lady Lost
Copyright � 2002
All rights reserved
Library of Congress Copyright
International Copyright
No rights to copy, print, download, duplicate, or display elsewhere other than upon this specific website granted or implied without the direct written permission of the author. Please contact agent of the author: Mr. Gunther S. Vanludwick at [email protected]
**As with all poetry, essays, correspondence and/or published letters, e-mails or other communications presented on this webpage, this poem is a personal subjective expression of its author's own feelings, thoughts, beliefs, and opinions. This statement is in no way intended to invalidate or minimize the powerful and poignant experiences of this author. However, this statement is intended to indicate that creative expressions such as these written forms of artwork are derived from their author's own personal feelings, thoughts, beliefs and opinions.
**This poem was written after an expert gave a similar analogy regarding stalkers.
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If you want to talk to me email me at: <[email protected]>
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Now ya 'all we all play nice here on the Cyris site so don't go thinking the art means we gotta kill the stalkers because that's all illegal and bad. The art represents a voluntary act of goodness done by the stalkers to themselves without any help from anyone else!
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