for lack of a better term

No  one sees the hidden philosophy or thought
Everything is completely intelligent
But all you see is eloquent bones between lines
On a stupid paper. Broken
And otherwise useless.

In every inked word there is a universe of brainmatter;
Every poem that falls through my string fingers
Is like a chunk of my meaningless flesh
Morphed into something i now realize i can never use
Because you(meaning the general public of suited sardines)
Cannot comprehend(anything.)

..because I am too young to be taken seriously...
You pat me on the head and say, "very interesting"
When really your spine just took a leap from a mountain.

But no.
You cant give me that recognition.
Because I'm fourteen.
And fading.



(i have lived your life vicariously in my writings and i can say that you dont have much to lose..)

11/4/10