Not Many See

I remembered many days
like this,
where an emptiness clung to my every move and laughed at my
every word,
and I would go to work
or school
or whatever series of
unholy disasters
needed me in their presence
and I'd stare at the clock,
at the dry faces of the businessmen,
at the horrid paint on the walls,
and wonder,
Can death really be worse than this?

Then I'd play some music,
tune out the harmony
of society
and fall deep into
the abyss of eternal life,
my face would slouch
and my eyelids would struggle,
trying not to collapse on each other.
The teacher would say words
the policeman would say words
the librarian would say words
my boss would say words
and they'd just splash upon my face
barely cracking my attention,
I'd frown and continue the day.

I often thought these day's to be the worst
but they were the most real,
they showed me meaninglessness
and I paid close attention
as the world continued
roaring at the sky.