Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2019
Perhaps it’s part of me
My overly predictable destiny
Green-eyed with envy

To accept or reject what lies upon my path
This vision with which I’m granted, increasing my uncontrollable, wreckless wrath

Protects me from the pain
But only a temporary way to sustain

Comes back to drown,
In streams— no—Rivers— no—seas
Never seising to resurrect a scornful frown

Projecting YOUR insecurities
Or revealing MY buried realities
The latter perhaps, though only to be accepted as time demonstrates a greater elapse

Reality I’ve lost
Long gone in my mind
Begging to question
The postlude I hear inside..?

If it mournful and sad
Or joyful, content, maybe overly glad?

The answer I know not,
And constantly question
I feel diluted, watered down and ready to be redirected

Though not by another,
My own self convicted
Cluttered, though entirely barren- I try to escape this impossible maze which I inflicted

purpose; unclear, messy, unordered
Drives me to the edge-
All illusions shattered

Fall afar, reaching the bottom
Broken apart, though somehow I blossom

Not a red rose, not a pure white lily —
Now a green orchid,
fragrant, though dreary
liakey
Written by
liakey  21/F
(21/F)   
386
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems