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3.0k · Apr 2014
death
forgotten Apr 2014
Start thinking about
Where you go when you die
Does your soul rest where your coffin is
or is death just a metamorphasis
2.5k · Sep 2014
Untitled
forgotten Sep 2014
*******
aint
****

but
hoes
and
tricks
1.3k · Aug 2014
outcast
forgotten Aug 2014
Im consider futile for voicing my opinion
I can't comprehend the mediocrity society conforms to
personally I don't want to live behind a desk my entire life searching for a happiness I subconsciously know I will never find at a job I hate along with a life I hate

But unfortunately I guess I'm just considered weird for craving a life beyond the measures of currency and income.

Maybe im just weird for not wanting to contribute toward this stagnant image of how to live our lives.

creativity is abruptly drained out of our mind my the education system who sees us as nothing more than a mere statistic

I refuse to conform and one day while you are sitting at the job you can't bare any longer

you will think of this
With regret
deeper than your hidden depression

and think "he was right"
Not a poem but worth a read
1.2k · May 2014
change
forgotten May 2014
All alone in this state of desperation
am I the only one, willing to fight
As if im waiting at this old station
waiting to be spiritually elevated into flight


too bright to be trapped inside this mediocrity
waiting to escape the grasp of this city


I can feel the potential within me
my teachers claim that it is and has been
Dead

My parents ask only for me to conform
I deep down know that I will never
Instead I ask for a complex reform
No
I beg for change

We are being blinded every day
I feel my eyes slowly closing
I feel my nails digging into my eyelids
Begging for them to open

I then wake up
and do exactly what the system has taught me to do

With remains of the abundance of scars
on my eyelids

and no change
fight the system.
1.2k · Apr 2014
you you you
forgotten Apr 2014
I woke up this morning
My mind consumed by you
I feel a sense of mourning
The death of a mutual love

The birth of a lonesome love
Here I am
Hurt
Again
idek
912 · Apr 2014
occupied subconscious
forgotten Apr 2014
I wish I had the ability
To write a poem
To go to sleep
To interact with people

But all I can find myself able to do
Is make myself a cup of coffee
Stare out the window into the emptiness
And let my imagination flow
With thoughts of you
Thoughts of us
What we could be

— The End —