It's just <br />the silence <br />talking. <br />Bouncing off <br />skull walls, <br />reverberating, <br />inside <br />information <br />so quickly <br />it has a <br />life force <br />all its own; <br />travelling <br />to the centre, <br />right through <br />to the pain. <br />How easy it is <br />to submit <br />to this <br />garbage <br />of the mind <br />where all that <br />grey matter <br />gets to <br />shuffle the cards <br />and have all the fun <br />when, usually <br />nothing bad <br />happens anyway. <br />Might as well stand <br />on your <br />human head <br />and let your feet <br />do the thinking <br />because <br />FEAR <br />always recognises <br />you <br />before your <br />wits do. <br /> <br /> <br />Copyright ©2005<br /><br />Adryan Rotica<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/false-evidence-appearing-real/
