half collar up and glasses off

i waste so much time in this chair
i sit half collar up and glasses off,
the lights are killed
music plays constantly
songs that i’ve heard all too often
but still sound brand new to the ear,
this is the time to think
to ponder life when guster sings the melody,
if truth is beauty then why do we lie?
if secrets are no fun and hurt someone
why are we filled with them?
i like the darkness,
the shadows produce their own beauty
a mysterious beauty of wonder,
is that why i wear the black polo
because i see nothing in the chair
only my arms extended to the desk
only a white pad and black pen.
the pad is the only light for which to see
and what do i do,
fill it with black ink
take away from the white
with my meager thoughts.

Hey, this is.