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nuffSaid Apr 2014
Into that dark silence of thy white night.
I walk alone, amazed by the sight.
The falling snow flakes kiss my cheek, sharp like a knife.
And I, in that moment realize that life, will be, alright.

I walk alone, amused by the sight.
The pure white scenery distracts my want to give up life's fight.
And I, in that moment realize that life, will be, alright.
Because confusion melts away, an inside, I ignite.

Pure and white is the scenery that distracts me from life.
Cold and bitter, devoid of strife.
Confusion melts away, an inside, I ignite.
Revealing inner feelings that reach new heights.

Cold and bitter, devoid of strife.
The falling snow kiss my cheek, sharp like a knife.
Revealing inner feelings that reach new heights.
Into the dark silence of thy Cold night
when times hit rock bottom I like to just take walks (preferably on a snowy night). this is a poem about a stress fighting mechanism that I use a lot in the winter (hardest part of the year --for me).
nuffSaid Apr 2014
In moments like these
we like to think life's a breeze
It puts us at ease.
Weekends with my friends
nuffSaid Apr 2014
Need to hide my face
Can not explain this feeling
Defeat, and disgrace.
Alone with my free time I sort of put myself in the shoes of my sister; attempting to embody her feelings following this traumatic event.
nuffSaid Jan 2014
For all these years I've not been here
because I have a chronic fear
that being in the present tense
would strip me of my last defense
against the terror known as "life,"
which I have found to be too rife
with anguish, heartbreak and despair
for any feeling soul to bear.
Thus I have kept myself apart,
pretended that I have no heart,
avoided being too awake,
and searched for ways that I could fake
a pseudo-personality
concealed in much banality
to deftly substitute in lieu
of really being here with you.
I've gotten very good at this,
and only dimly do I miss
the warmth that other people feel
who have the courage to be real.
I think my way of life is best,
and so I make this firm request:
Don't wake me up, don't make me see
my triumph is a tragedy.
!!Not my poem!! It's by John Greening
nuffSaid Jan 2014
The way that I've arranged my life,
I've left no time to feel.
This anesthetic works so well
I never do reveal
my feelings even to myself
or to those close to me.
By keeping busy all the time
I act like I am free,
and if I have some time to spare
I fill it up real fast,
and pray this numbing sedative
is somehow going to last.
When nosey people question me
I hasten to explain
this is my plan to get through life
by minimizing pain,
and yet at times I lie awake
obsessed by sudden doubt—
I worry that I'm just a fool
and somehow missing out.
I do not hope to really live
but merely to survive,
but will I mourn when I'm near death
not having been alive?
!!**This is not my work**!!it's by john greening

— The End —