Pop culture died off
but media executives
were pretty attached to that horse
and they have one hell of a swinging arm
they got their bats, paddles, batons, and fists
and they really let that horse have it
breaking bones and crushed organs
a pool of blood held by gravity
rests lazily in a bloated stomach
and after the melee is all over with
all we are left with
are shoes and reality t.v. shows
what an achievement

he is a robotic man
clad in a suit or iron
which is the only thing
anchoring him to this place
foot steps leave dents in the ground
huge heaving strides
a step with a purpose
cold to the touch
filled with dangerous mechanisms
only vulnerable on the inside
but nobody can crack the plating
pulled by magnetic fields
He is lifeless
tight like a nerve
charging up passionate energy
which comes out in laser beam explosions
a sentinel
less human with every sunset
he puts mankind
in his cross hairs
and opens fire
an Iron man
who was once
simply,
just a man

No one is to blame,
I fell under a shadow.
Nothing wins again.

Driven by emotions
Stalled by fears
Drowning in troubles
Ending in Tears

I find myself in a familiar place,
A place where I'm left to dealt with myself
And it scares me.
I scare me.
My never ending thoughts that race a hundred miles per hour,
Seemingly never giving me a break
From the exhaustion of having to think
Of all the troubles i'm handed
A burden that surrounds me
Follows me every where i turn
Until they all face me
And im cornered with all the problems
Needing to be fixed
Some belonging to others
But more often mine. 
As if life wasn't hard enough,
My brain rams it all back to me
In a cruel summary of the horrid reality i wish to escape.
But worst are the memories
Not the the ones that still haunt me to this day
But the few i recall of times that were once happy
Because with my current situation
It saddens me to think
I will never be as happy again.

I was told to write a poem.
I thought it was easy
Because to me poetry is feelings  
Coming from experiences familiar to you
Until i heard we had to read them aloud
I silently freak.
Panic at the mere thought of having a glimpse of the real me exposed.
The part of me vulnerable
The part of me no ones knows
Poetry is my refuge
My safe heaven
My thoughts that are often burdens
Lifted from my shoulders to be written away from my pen
Onto paper
Ive written poems about me
Poems about
Problems
Sadness
Love
And i really don't think i'm ready
To share all this just yet