We languidly file in line,
Listlessly listening, with hungry notions
Reality fades like a forgotten rhyme
Moment to moment just going through the motions
The ghost of a dead rose, the void it seems
Existent in an infinite of smoke and haze
Languid and listless, tied to a dream
An entourage of passing days
Existence lies, reclusive we’ve become
Shades of insanity, as the world seems slow
We wait to die, but have only just begun
Emotions too familiar, just won’t show
One day soon we will awaken
Some hour soon, we will feel once again
Till that time, we’re broken but not shaken
Languid and listless until then
Schizophrenic Poems, Short Stories, and Thoughts 