Maze

I stand alone in a Maze
I stretch and breath in a daze.
We are shells of our selves.
Dead and walking to the tune of pointlessness.
I am the logical beast called man.
I am what it means to live and not care.

The robot with the television head stares.
The spinning vortex of dead dreams.
My mind is lost to the repetitive tasks of these things.
That feeling of what it seems to die.
These pointless things do not matter.