Numb to it all,

Not just numb to the pain.

Numbed by life’s struggle,

Numbed by its strain.

Numb to the present,

It’s moment too vast,

Spurred on by defeat,

I’m numb to the past.

Numb to emotion,

Except doubt and pride,

Desperate for the destination,

But numb to the ride.

Numb to the voices,

Especially my own,

Numb to wise words,

I feel totally alone.

Numbed by achievements,

There’s always more,

Numbed by missed chances,

The memories are sore.

Numb to opinion,

What are their goals?

Numb to society,

And it’s absence of souls.

Inspired by thought,

But not to what’s real,

It’s oxymoronic,

But numb is all I feel.

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As a shameless opportunist, I'm going to use this footer area to remind you that I am a NUMBER 1 BEST-SELLING author, which means  you should probably go and buy my books, or my super-duper-rubbish artwork, or at least very least come back every 6 months to make all this sort of worthwhile. (I realise this totally contradicts the self-deprecating message of my website, but my imaginary agent said I should put it down as an afterthought. So I have. Happy now imaginary agent?)