Untitled.

You know how all poems, or most, have a purpose? this one doesn't....it's just a general rant on soceity, on life, on an unending confusion that exists in my mind.
written during a never-ending holiday in Pakistan, Jan 2007.

Untitled.

Trying to handle

Everything

at once.

Be too many people,

For too many people.

Too many faces. Too many masks.

Which Me to Be?

Laziness- lair of vile inclinations
Boredom- limitless time for thoughtlessly drifting

through the mind's endless corridors

and vacant rooms.

Unanswerable Questions.
A weary old vocabulary

Defunct

Too elusive to be of use.
Nausea
Sleep
Tirdeness

Weariness of the Soul.

Exhausting Co-operation.
Monotony of the Unwanted.

Insecurity, Inexperience, Innocence.

Tact, Taboo.

Etiquettes of Behaviour
Rules to follow Rules.
Dormant, Stagnant Voices resounding

Echoing undying power
Uncontrollable.

Spinning in a haze

of Endless Time
Endless Space

Thoughts, Ideas, Dreams,
Spiralling
Cascading
Engulfing

Totality.

Everything
is like

Vertigo.

Note: the original format of the poem is actualli much different but sumhow i cant get blogger to save it , it just reverts it to everything aligned completly left or completely center....If anyone knows how to save it in custom format please let me know, ..thanx!!!