Christopher Bradford Poems

</></>My soul is a shadow caught in an eclipse.
Gradually getting darker as my sanity slips.
Am i disconnected from reality? Or is reality disconnected from chris?
Mask the pain, divert the blame, prolong a fate within my grips.
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You cast the stones i use to build the walls that stand around me.
Inside these walls, i scream and shout, but still no one has found me.
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Sin is undeniable, even if its justifiable what caused it.
Some men are shunned because they walk with thier skeletons, by men who hide thiers in thier closet.
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When relevent becomes irrelevent and nonsense becomes common,
it demands a new definition of common sense.
The power of intellect yeilds power to ignorant.
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</>Alone, but crowded. Shallow and detaianed.
Withdrawn, withheld. Possibly insane.
From an alternate dimension but inhabiting this plane.
Pulled from a see of infinate comfort, to a desolate land of acidic rain.
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