Feed for Think. II

Italics = poem
CLD = me
"'s (around quote) = not said or thought by me originally

---

How...

---

Hello all of you, my name's Anzel
I am a child just like all of you
With eyes to see and ears to hear the lies
We're spoon-fed in the evening and the night
Soon after a full day has cried to you

The wildness and the intellect hide deep
Within the boundaries of wounded hearts
I'm not sure that they still can hear my song
Of delicate and wise, and hidden lies
That you are blind to if behind the pane

---

Friends, you are not friends.
Lies, you are not lies to them
I wish, though,
You would see
My world
Beyond that stubborn pane

How I wish to break it
Smash it with an iron fist
Not these frail human hands
Made of bone

But how?
For we are all atomic
In a simple way
Of lead grey pencil
And
Why do I bother here
You little deaflings

When you don't fucking get it.

((after is an illustration of a brain called Perception, made from small words. the previous poem references an 8-page long poem i've yet to post here, but that hits everyone deep))

---

Or maybe, no wonder for I.