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27 · 1d
Voices
Fra 1d
We all have a voice!
We all want to be heard!
Elucidate personal pain
Our thoughts be shared!
But what if…
We are addicts,
Not addicted to drugs, alcohol or food
Nor any other of the norms.
What if our thoughts are our DRUG
That we cling so tightly to.
They are our dark companion
They don’t want us to be free.
They want to keep us caged
Chained to this ANXIETY!
I often wonder and ponder too
Did our brothers B.C
Fret about fretting,
When their survival was key!
We are but a product
We have haven’t caught up
Our brains can’t process,
They cannot conduct!
We celebrate our advance
We rule this world,
Yet we are not happy
But we must give the kids chance
26 · 1d
The Cycle
Fra 1d
I’m slipping,
I don’t want
To believe
But it’s happening
The floor boards have given way
Gravity is pulling
I’m free falling
I’m scared
I feel numb
I feel fear
I am afraid
Paradoxically
I don’t care
I hate this
But I love the pain
I feel justified
Life is hard
But I know
I need help
But I won’t seek
First I’ll taste stone
Then…
I’ll repent

The cycle will repeat
26 · Nov 7
Thoughts
Fra Nov 7
Thoughts crash hard like wicked waves.
Demons lurk, waiting to devour,
Like vermin feeding on life gone sour!
When weak we can become their slaves.
But then I think about why I’m here
Looking at life with such fear.
I’m an example
I am weak
My bed is soft,
My plate is full,
I don’t know struggle
But yet I still pull.
I want more.
I want to be fulfilled.
But I don’t know,
I’m privileged
So I will never know!
Fra 2d
When you see me,
What do you see?
I can appear as you need me to be.
But I am never free.
You see only what I wish to be
I use many faces!
I have a vast collection
Yet in the mirror it’s hard to flee
The pain that lies beneath my reflection
I duck and I weave
I ignore and evade
I smile whilst I grieve
Wishing it was over, hoping to fade!
Like a hydraulic press
The pressure compounds
Self loathing and stress
My brain, it confounds!
But I am not alone.
For this world is an abyss
Turning our hearts to stone
All its beauty we miss.
If we stopped for a while
Saw what is real
Our lives are but a mile
In times ever turning wheel.

— The End —