The Sanitary Urn (Poem by me)

[bullhead]

Don't try and forget your shortcomings
Happiness is a stones throw away
But your load is a heavy one
And your throwing arm is tiring
And the only satisfaction I can reap from my despondency
Is the truth of the existence of those that stand above me
Crippled in this kingdom of carpets and switches
Im only a hobo
Let guilt bind me
And pull me into contentedness
Ill be a fridge magnet
Or a sticky yellow reminder of a missed appointment
Im digging my palm now into my thigh
Pawing blind
In that drunken odourless void of unimaginable infinity
The hardy fisherman teases the rope
Back to the boat via my very own veins.
Ill hide in my slumber
Ill recharge my sleepy bones
Tomorrow is looming so professionally
I must admire his persistence
His rough claws palming at my aching back
Service with a bow-tie
Good morning

[ExcruciationX]

...

Okay.

Taken anything lately?

[dejkirkby]

It is very cryptic and hard to read a lot into.
When I'm getting is hints of despondency intertwined with moments of happiness, kind of like two people (or personalities) conserving.

[ExcruciationX]

Dang, I can't understand it. The Grey Isle was easy to understand.