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staci-romeroPoems
An emotion has stirred my thoughts As if I've changed fate into something It shouldn't have become Like a drum I beat through my day I tell myself to continue What's the issue There may not be a point Almost as if I'm existing in the place of another What would my mother, Who has raised me but never knew me, Think of my choices It's as if voices Calling from within a deep crevice Are letting me know There's not going be a show No great climactic beam of ethereal light Only a fizzled out glow, dull and unnoted He once quoted This life is only lived in place Of your parents hopes and dreams A ballad, an ode or a requiem What would be fit for this What would hail, bold and brightly For this most unholy, God almighty Who made me live in place of another I take their concept of joy, they take my cynical pride   Low tide, Please wash away my past transgressions I only meant to preserve Unfortunately it will serve To take away a sense of self Here I am living, vicariously Take my mind Take my thoughts Trade me yours Trade me away Give up your worth Give up your pain I promise I'll take care of them I promise I'll take ravenously Your identity is yours alone Alone, you are mine
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Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
Vicarious
An emotion has stirred my thoughts As if I've changed fate into something It shouldn't have become Like a drum I beat through my day I tell myself to continue What's the issue There may not be a point Almost as if I'm existing in the place of another What would my mother, Who has raised me but never knew me, Think of my choices It's as if voices Calling from within a deep crevice Are letting me know There's not going be a show No great climactic beam of ethereal light Only a fizzled out glow, dull and unnoted He once quoted This life is only lived in place Of your parents hopes and dreams A ballad, an ode or a requiem What would be fit for this What would hail, bold and brightly For this most unholy, God almighty Who made me live in place of another I take their concept of joy, they take my cynical pride   Low tide, Please wash away my past transgressions I only meant to preserve Unfortunately it will serve To take away a sense of self Here I am living, vicariously Take my mind Take my thoughts Trade me yours Trade me away Give up your worth Give up your pain I promise I'll take care of them I promise I'll take ravenously Your identity is yours alone Alone, you are mine
I realize this poem wanders quite a bit If there's anything that can be taken out, anything that goes on and one without a point, let me know so I can edit a little
staci-romero
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staci-romero
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
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