Attic Wit

The intrusions
in the mind of all emotions,
opinions come to plead
Its must be
the bitter and the fallen
who face the mirror
Into reflections stare
Ultimatums and imaginations
of us,

As ones who possess
and ones
who become possessions
We drift further along
Shelving thoughts
in rooms unkempt

in words explain
the soulful journey as
tales of and the aftermath
of perceptions self involved

In the army
of words and visions
we become
Parallels of comparisons
Of the happy to happiness
Sad to the miserable
Staring into oblivion
of our own solitary qualms