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I am such a ****** man Learned it through growing up I write particularly about much of nothing My heart cries out that one day I will succeed in my dream I know I am stubborn about love But I have to love myself to give it away I am prone to write about the ugliness of life So much tragedy we all see daily I am not fond of the road I have chosen It seem like one wrong turn will do me in If only I could be as strong as others I see The ones who I admire that look at darkness and only laugh These are the ones I would like to be like They fill my heart with joy and they don't even know it They put pen to paper and write an awesome poem I can only wish to write I read these words from them and I can only feel better about myself and my day Not so when you read one of mine Darkness clouds my mind I even give it a try But am lost for words in these darken eyes I write about death and pain I talk **** about love and how chaos has ruined my day If only I could write like my heroes Then and only then I would be at a place where I would know Things aren't that way in this perspective of mine Beauty is all around me but I look at the garbage cans I stare up at the sky and wish a storm to pass by Maybe a bolt of lightning would electrocute me One could only hope for things to go right But here I sit not doing much of anything with my time It's difficult to find my sanity with the way I feel Wondering if it isn't just a dream and not much is real
0
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 9:10 AM UTC
Not Much Is Real For Me (Only What I Read)
I am such a ****** man Learned it through growing up I write particularly about much of nothing My heart cries out that one day I will succeed in my dream I know I am stubborn about love But I have to love myself to give it away I am prone to write about the ugliness of life So much tragedy we all see daily I am not fond of the road I have chosen It seem like one wrong turn will do me in If only I could be as strong as others I see The ones who I admire that look at darkness and only laugh These are the ones I would like to be like They fill my heart with joy and they don't even know it They put pen to paper and write an awesome poem I can only wish to write I read these words from them and I can only feel better about myself and my day Not so when you read one of mine Darkness clouds my mind I even give it a try But am lost for words in these darken eyes I write about death and pain I talk **** about love and how chaos has ruined my day If only I could write like my heroes Then and only then I would be at a place where I would know Things aren't that way in this perspective of mine Beauty is all around me but I look at the garbage cans I stare up at the sky and wish a storm to pass by Maybe a bolt of lightning would electrocute me One could only hope for things to go right But here I sit not doing much of anything with my time It's difficult to find my sanity with the way I feel Wondering if it isn't just a dream and not much is real
james-arthur-powell
Written by
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 9:10 AM UTC
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