I’ve been in quite a tough place for a while.
Never sure if I could find my smile.
Working meant a hollow sacrifice.
Feeling only dry sadness from my eyes.
I hide my grief.
So others don't weep.
But it hurts.
It hurts.
I'm in a paradox.
With my emotional blocks.
I have to fight the treatment.
So others don't feel the impediment.
But I hurt.
They can't know I hurt.
Because then they'll hurt.
And that makes me hurt.
Something gone, distant now.
Looking back, I wouldn’t know how.
Yet here I am.
And here I stand.
Before my friends.
And I’ll smile ‘till the end.
For you,
And for me.
Does this poem make me feel better?
Or does it make me feel worse?
I don't know anymore.
It hurts.
Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 2:51 AM UTC
I’ve been in quite a tough place for a while.
Never sure if I could find my smile.
Working meant a hollow sacrifice.
Feeling only dry sadness from my eyes.
I hide my grief.
So others don't weep.
But it hurts.
It hurts.
I'm in a paradox.
With my emotional blocks.
I have to fight the treatment.
So others don't feel the impediment.
But I hurt.
They can't know I hurt.
Because then they'll hurt.
And that makes me hurt.
Something gone, distant now.
Looking back, I wouldn’t know how.
Yet here I am.
And here I stand.
Before my friends.
And I’ll smile ‘till the end.
For you,
And for me.
Does this poem make me feel better?
Or does it make me feel worse?
I don't know anymore.
It hurts.
While trying to help my friend through some problems, I was suddenly inspired to write this to make them feel better. In the end, I added more, then some more, until I felt like I had to try to make myself feel better. This is the final product.
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