One by one,
The petals fall,
Softly to the ground.

One by one,
My tears fall,
Rolling down my cheeks.

We are just the same, you and I
We are both longing to survive,
But as every petal falls and every tear rolls,
The beauty inside us slowly dies.

I have come to an impasse in my life
I no longer have a definitive direction
Now only questions without answers
And answers with no explanation
In all things I lack the closure I crave
Just a gaping hole filled with misery
I long to at last carve out the sorrow
To be free and **** that part of me
That part that refuses to let me heal
To let the scars of the past fade
But some wounds never truly mend
And in this realization I am unmade.

Smile. They are watching.
Silence. They are listening.
Run. They are behind you.
Hide. They are coming.
Deny. They suspect.
Admit. They know.
Give in. They have won.

They won because you smiled,
Because you allowed them to silence you.
Because you ran,
Because you denied,
Because you admitted.
You lost because you gave in.
Give yourself a round of applause, they caught you.

Do not cry, do not lie, do not let the guilt eat you alive;
You are already dead.
At their hand, at your own.
Look at the bodies lying around you,
The ruined souls who too gave in.
You are not alone,
Your weakness is shared,
Part of the fabric of our ****** reality.

Do not blame them, they are not the only culprits.
You chose to be blind, to be deaf, to be something you are not.
You chose the disguise.
Now you cannot shed that cast.
Welcome to your new reality....
The reality of greed and pleasure;
Is it everything you dreamed it would be?
Or are the casualties staining your new life with their blood and broken bodies?

Welcome to Utopia.

Poetry is the heartbeat of life;
Each poem develops us from existence to experience.
It is the answer to all forms of strife,
For every single word written
Delivers an unspoken truth by the giver.
It acts as if it is the logic behind literature
A fire driven by the desire of every creature.
To make up the pavement on the road less traveled by,
To not just gather roses but make use of them,
To realize that the fault is not in the stars, but in us,
To not be resigned in living a life of quiet desperation.

Robert Frost, Robert Herrick, William Shakespeare and Henry David Thoreau,
They are noble men.
They are poets.
They have understood that poetry sustains life.

Poetry is a noble pursuit.
It is needed to sustain life
Thus it develops us to a greater form of humans
We are slaves to its will
For we merely not write poetry;
For it is poetry which writes us.

An Ode To Poets,
To honour them for their noble deeds.
An Ode To Poets,
To live by their noble deeds.

But how can I get over
Something that was never mine?

The world is too bright when it’s full of lies.
Darkness lacks without any trust.
How I wish to dim the deceit,
For too much can hide behind florescent lights.
Cold penetrates
What once was kept warm by the golden world in the celestial sky.
Soon to be a myth of long ago.
Pity will cease
For not a tear will be seen
For cries will be lost
In the midst of agony,
Felt by a world too far gone from all verities.
Rain will fall to wash away
The remnants of falsities
To reveal, even to blind eyes,
All the truths long forgotten.
A world of fragile things
Hidden by far too many a luminous glow.
Rapture all the shadows;
No longer apparitions of the hidden psych.
Free they are
To roam a deceptive world,
To spill every obscure secret.
Like the crimson blood shed
By countless who fought
Through the murky seas of deception.
Shattering is all will be
When the sun fails
And we must confront the face in the cracked mirror.

There was a time when the path I walked was wide.
The cliffs on either side were far away.
As the years have passed, it has narrowed.
Now my sneaker clad feet are at the brink,
Toe to yellow line.
How easy would it be to fall?
I’m afraid to find out.
I’m afraid I’m about to take the final step.
My heart beats a fast tempo in my chest as I pass another lost soul on the street.
How long ago did he step off the ledge?
He hasn’t found a way back up to that narrow road he left behind.
Has anyone?
I glance behind,
To see both strange and familiar bodies that walk along their own paths.
How wide are their roads?
Can any of them see the way my feet hug the edge?
My eyes travel back to the abyss below,
And morbid humor takes hold.
No one can guess, no one can see, no one can feel.
If I fall, I fall alone.
Why do I find pleasure in that?
Maybe because I know….
I know in this world we walk alone.
Even as we hope, we yearn, that another human, if only one, will fit their soul with ours.
Even as we know it’s a lie.
We live, we fall, we hurt, we die.
Alone.
The humor, the pleasure fades.
I don’t fear death but I fear the fall.
I fear this life because I fear myself.