Pointlessly True

pointlessly true, steven humphreys, poetry, poems, prose, writer, author

It became pointlessly


mindfully proved

As far as that

poor destitute woman knew

that inside that box

she was living in

a righteous life

so square

doing right things

crumpled up in a ball

Yet, something kept

haunting her

deep inside

in that

most hidden place

of all hidden places

in the dark hall

she stood


no one

not even herself

ever finds

no matter how hard women try

how close they look

it’s that reality

she wants to be in

and cry

where she knows thyself

better than anyone



that she felt deceived

and that life

was some kind of cruel joke

laid upon her by some

perverted goddess

who put her on a shelf

It was that everything

seemed so pointless,


and vain

the more she pondered the notion

the harder she thought

and felt pain

the less she found

she knew

the more clever she got

the more miserable

her life became

the more things stayed the same

But, she kept on anyway

despite the signs

she’d already




and again

in hind sight

fooling no one

but her own psyche

and her own secrets

living out the lie

full measure


and talking

alone to herself

never showing her dark side

never finding out why

in her lonely mirror

keeping her language to herself

that if she believed strongly enough

they’d love her

they would come to her

they would find her

bringing her

delivering her

to that place

of heartfelt kindness

every woman seeks

yet, never finds

in a thousand life times

Trapped in a mirage

all along

the created lie

and figment

on her way


beating her head

against the wall

once more

like always





as long as she has to

until someone comes along

bringing change

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