My demons follow me;
In my sleep,
In my head,
In my past,
And my future.
Am I known for my past?
I understand it was bad and I was
Moving to fast,
But as I turn around and start
Moving slow;
Am I recognized as the clown…
Of the show?
I feel like a homeless person
Getting rich.
Crying to myself at night
Because my problems are
Getting thick;
Which all turns out to me
Being a b..ch to everybody
Else,
Then afterwards I say sorry,
Because it wasn’t the real me,
It was just my stress that
Took over.
I’m pulling off the leaves of
A few four leaf clovers,
Just to get lucky or
Recognized for a one hit
Wonder.
I drop down to my knees,
And try to pray away my
Thunders,
But the more I try the harder
The rain,
The more I pray;
The dirtier my knees.
The harder I strive;
The louder my pleads.
The more positive things I try to feel;
The redder I bleed;
Of recognition and a pat
On the back,
Love or something,
But I just get lack;
Of claps and smiles.
I guess love in my past
Just wasn’t my style.
Am I recognized as my past in
This present?
The things that I feel isn’t
Pleasant;
For one human
Stressin’.
Its indescribable
And feel unrealistic.
I’m breaking every bone
In my back just to get some
Recognition.
I’m bursting every vain in my neck,
Just to get a pair of eyes to
See;
But I’m walking quiet in the
Storm,
Washing my tears away remembering
Where I grew up;
And living hard and rough.
I remember not caring,
And hurting my people,
But my present time is here.
Am I made equal?
I’m growing sadder and sadder.
My chest grows heavier and heavier.
My mind is over thinking;
And floods out with my
Thoughts.
I’m choking myself with
My own
Faults.
I’m wheezing helpless,
And emotional with scratch marks
All over my body,
From scratching and itching;
Just for a little
Recognition.





-Marci H.