The Writers Voice
The World's Favourite Literary Website



TL Taylor

Circling slowly into the dense haze
That is my mind, my soul, my being
You find that you are caught—no way out
My eyes suck you in, the apparent softness
Belies the depth and emptiness therein
For I am hollow, naught but a shell, a husk
Fooling all around me into thinking, feeling
That I am real, solid, a part of the world.
Fraud is my definition, my reality
Even those who claim to know me
Do not know what I truly am: a hoax
A giant blasphemous joke played on the world
By a deceitful, childish, sadistic being
Who somehow believes they are the creator—
And they have created me, fallacy, a pun:
A human being with an unrealized reality.

Critique this work

Click on the book to leave a comment about this work

All Authors (hi-speed)    All Authors (dialup)    Children    Columnists    Contact    Drama    Fiction    Grammar    Guest Book    Home    Humour    Links    Narratives    Novels    Poems    Published Authors    Reviews    September 11    Short Stories    Teen Writings    Submission Guidelines

Be sure to have a look at our Discussion Forum today to see what's
happening on The World's Favourite Literary Website.