This was the first poem that I wrote in the "Feelings" series. I had never been so... bored?/depressed? in my life. I wasn't even entirely sure what I was feeling but I do know that I had an immense urge to attempt at putting the words down on paper.
I'm tired and uninspired,
life like an unwound clock,
hands stood still as time passes around, it, me.
Footsteps and footprints, which came first in this enduring day of transit to somewhere slowly and nowhere fast.
Held together by so many pieces of string,
a veritable marionette,
bittersweet in its love of movement, while otherwise enslaved.
The moments that happen once are remembered,
sourly, staunchly, a mixture of regret and satisfaction or as an inevitable downhill trend,
a staircase that dwindles in an ever-flowing spiral of sickening dizziness and malcontent.
Sometimes expression can be quite superfluous.