The Windup Man

I feel like a windup toy, somebody else is making me tick. Lacking any semblance of a stable centre. This is me trying to be me again.

I’m not living, my breath stinks worse than the fly s**t and I don’t care. My dreams flicker off. Hours and minutes recede through the cracks in the wall - I was never here.

I don’t exist, these words are figments. I don’t exist.

If you can hear me, wake up and come alive. Brush your teeth and swat those b*****d flies.

Can you hear me?

Author's Note

I guess it's more of a note than a poem, but enjoy..

Looking forward to your thoughts.

Will fix grammar errors in time.

Reviews

[wordman]

sounds like you are confused,you was there you wrote on the wall

[Xuru]

Was it now?

[Poetic Beauty]

This reminds me of someone in a bleak depressed mode waiting for something or someone to revive their soul.

[Xuru]

Beyond reviving I think.

[Ted Kniffen]

There are certainly possibilities here, Xuru. I remember those early days of feeling disconnected, like the world was spinning out of control and there was nothing we could do to change it. Existence hangs by a thread, its as fragile as the wings on those b*****d flies.
Good write.

[Xuru]

That it does. Thank you Ted.

[Coyote Poetry]

I did like this one. I will leave my desk and brush my teeth and come alive. Worthwhile and good words shared my friend. I hope you are doing well. Have some fun and being safe. Thank you Xuru for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Xuru]

Thanks for the concern my friend, glad you liked it.

[Coyote Poetry]

I did enjoy and you are welcome my friend.