Buried While Breathing
Talking like you, walking like you
as I am required to do means life
without joie de vivre, when I voice
my excitement I must tone it down
Talking in an even, expressionless
voice makes you happy while this
oppresses my spirit - suppresses
the joy I feel bubbling inside
Which only explode in a happy
low but it is forbidden at home, I
must tippy-tippy-toe, tippy-tippy
toe around everything until life
Is so boring - I hope somebody
would kill me or I might fall in an
eternal swoon - whatever would
take me away from all this -
So secure, so calm and with-
out fun - hanging on just to get
more of this is an absurd joke:
buried while still breathing
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Added by Poetry Lover
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