The serenades of morning birds
Makes me regret scathing words.
The past will always be;
The future we'll never see.
But the present has a beauty
Not marred by depressional sooty.
Dec 6, 2021
Dec 6, 2021 at 10:11 PM UTC
I feel empty and pointless, all of the time
I feel like, these thoughts just won't leave my mind
I feel like it's imperative I hold them to protect others
I feel like, what do these thoughts compare to those of my brothers
I feel less than, forced to conceal
I feel like what I know is very barely real
I feel like what happens to me shouldn't really matter
I feel as though my feelings are those I should batter
I feel like it'd be easier were all of this done with
I feel like happiness and joy are all but a myth
I feel like not wanting to feel
I feel like it'd be easier if I weren't real
Dec 6, 2021
Dec 6, 2021 at 3:46 PM UTC
I mourn a future never meant to be,
discarding rose-tinted glasses for emerald shades.
I don a hood of fractured memories,
and despair the person I never became.
Jan 19, 2020
Jan 19, 2020 at 5:58 AM UTC
See, first we were as one,
But soon we drifted apart.
You decided to run,
Ice encased my heart...
When our time reached two,
I faked it all and you knew.
You were so close yet I didn't visit,
Time spent is useless if I don't miss it.
And just before it hit three,
You and death prematurely met.
There's something twisted in me,
Because I hold no regret.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 11:49 PM UTC
All of my poetry
seems to be four-dimensional.
If it takes time to read,
Then I'm a 4-D professional.
If I had all the time in the world,
who would I give a second thought?
If I had all the knowledge in the universe unfurled,
who would care enough to be taught?
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 6:34 AM UTC
May build our homes,
but people will always desert me.
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 6:29 AM UTC
Much like electricity,
I travel the path of least resistance.
Combined with my eccentricity,
this puts a damper on my persistence.
It is said we should take the path less travelled,
but, in itself, that leads to isolation.
Before we have the mysteries of life unravelled,
we are told this with no consolation...
Society is such that "intellects" can't thrive.
It's created for masses, which works somewhat well...
For an "intellect" to find intrinsic drive,
This runs the risk of creating a shell.
If we are all nodes in circuit,
expected to be independent,
how do we know if it's all really worth it?
Who becomes our psychological defendant?
C'est la vie, and such are these musings...
All I write about will likely never change.
I just find it morbidly amusing,
maybe I'm slightly deranged...
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
Like a star, you
are completely unstable.
This is certainly true,
it is no fable.
A constant battle, between
your constant auto-criticism,
crushing your self-esteem...
Lashing out with witticism.
And your thoughts coming together
beautiful yet destructive,
yet it's only when it's them you aim to tether
do they tend to get disruptive.
Although I'm under no illusion
and I realise that your beauty can blind,
you create energy like nuclear fusion
and boggle my mind.
Some will be blinded by your brilliance,
others will never fathom your inner struggles.
You will have to find intrinsic stimulants,
and amaze those who watch you juggle
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
Once upon a time, I met a girl.
Now, I'm certainly no geologist,
but I can definitely say she rocked my world.
So much so, that I may need to see a psychologist.
This girl was beautiful from head to toe.
Not just because of aspects like personality or aesthetics,
but because she continued to fight her internal foe.
The kind of ceaseless beauty not found in cosmetics.
Sadly, she cannot seem to see herself as I do -
shrugging off compliments or scoffing in disbelief.
She struggles every moment of ever day, yet there is one I rue:
The moment she convinces herself death is the only relief.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 2:27 PM UTC