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IPM Oct 2017
The year
  I fear,
  the month
   still tears me
    the week
     is my weakness
      these days
       I'm listless
        and every hour
         I'm being devoured
          by every minute
           and second
            of hundredth
              sadness.
**** this year's been really experimental. I feel that the more I try out new things with my writing the more I find myself. And I don't see myself as some lyrical genius breaking past norms, far from it, I can't even call myself a decent poet. I can't say what resonates within people's hearts, but I can say this: I write down everything that comes to my mind in ways I find interesting. I also appreciate the fact that there are people who actually take their time to read this. So thanks.
IPM Oct 2017
Moonlight shimmers
and sparks the lights
of starlight roads
across the night.

s o m e w h e r e

Gentle winds softly caress
calm and soothing forest
trees,
the dark night firmly recreates
feelings of eternal peace.

l o s t

Somewhere below
the stale moon's embrace,
a man wanders lost
without a trace.

i n s i d e

His sanity wavers
his soul rips apart,
the blood pressure rises
in his hollow heart.

the

M  oonlight blinds
and dampens the lights
of starlight roads
across the night.

forest

Cold winds roughl  y strike
shivers down the lost soul's
spine,
the trees, as twisted as the night
****** a fraction of his  m  i n d.
IPM Oct 2017
Kept walking all alone
on busy streets,
in places where concrete
the soft rain meet.

Bright lights shine all around
with blinding beams,
the city seems so full
of empty dreams.

Cars often stacking up
in traffic lines,
a place where every man
peace never finds.

And still I'm walking down
these busy streets,
the city smiles at me
but never greets.
IPM Oct 2017
I struck, but smashed my head
in a cold, iron wall.
IPM Oct 2017
As far as I remember
I remember - I was three
wake up, blow the candles
that's my first memory.

Didn't like to go outside
stayed at home, watched TV.
Had a couple childhood friends
now I barely even see.

Kindergarten, met a guy
probably my first true friend
now that guy can go to hell
not that I believe in it.

Tasted domestic abuse
from my dad's first hand
slapped so hard, my nose bled
he never hit me again.

Lost my innocence at six
seeing a decapitated cat
felt disgusted, made me sick
could do nothing and just sat.

Then my brother grew up
and he called me fat and ugly
wanted me to be like him
so he hit me quite frequently.

Wanted me to be a man
but he always held back
atleast that's what he said,
hence the bruises that I had.

Started going to school
racism flew all around
tried to be a good boy,
I was spat on with a crowd.

Decided to **** myself
at the early age of ten
knew that others had it worse,
but that added to the pain.

Had a couple childhood idols
I was even a fanatic,
but they made for some good times
and they weren't so traumatic.

Had a couple of close friends
that I still talk to this date,
but we don't meet up so often
as we used to, back in the day.

Middle school, had to move
said goodbye to all my friends
and the shock made me confused
with the chills that it still sends.

And my brother reached his peak
we would get in constant fights
in which I would always lose
so I cried alone at nights.

But I had my first crush
it was good, for a while.
Then I had to move again
to the highschool living style.

My brother graduated
and my parents went back home.
I was left with my grandparents,
but was mostly all alone.

In a cozy, rainy day
I decided to lose weight,
and have kept my promise since
never broke it like a saint.

Maybe that made me the man
that my brother always wanted,
though I don't care either way
it was my wish that I granted.

Found some interesting new hobbies
one of them was surely writing.
Through the sorrow and the pain
I looked up and kept on fighting.

Had to break my heart three times
just to put it in the freezer.
But it feels that even that
was a short glimpse of the teaser.

To be clear, I'll never want
anybody's empathy.
I walk the path that I have chosen
to a strong and better me.

And that's just the way it  goes
life, with all it's ups and downs.
This here was my life story,
up until now...
Oh boy, a long one.
IPM Sep 2017
How did I end up here
in this gruesome clash,
threatened with a gun
by this human trash?

I don't know for sure
but for one I'm certain,
as the trigger pulls
down drops my curtain.

Back slams on the ground
now I'm left for dead,
blood spills from me
painting the concrete red.

As the pain numbs down
and my heartbeat slows,
all my lifelong dreams
leave my body cold.

****...is this the end?
Is this the end of me?
I wish someone was here
just to remember me...
and I wake up.
IPM Sep 2017
I've been asked
why I've been cold
or seemingly - just mean
tell you the truth,
quite recently
I don't care
for a thing.

I've been asked
quite frequently
to state my sanity,
or maybe I'm
just acting strange
against all clarity.

I've been asked
behind the scenes
why I hate my writing,
it may be so
that in my core
I don't want to be seen.

I've been asked...
what have I been asked ?
I don't remember it...
Ah, it's irrelevant
I still don't care
and never will begin...






yet, deep inside,
where all my feelings
sparkle, dimly lit
it may be short, but
for a while... I care
a tiny bit...
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