If this is life
Work
Pay
Eat
Sleep
Repeat
A cycle of not going ******
Trying to stay humble
And positive soaking my time up in trees
That no longer breath
But turn to paper
Which Is spent to stay warm at night
If this is life I don't know the true meaning of living

What is a man if not the lightness of night and the darkness of day?
A crush of sullied confusion, a mess of uneasy contradiction
Drven by his own stolen ideas and lifes fractured ideals.
Is this what makes a man?

What is a man if not the dreamers lie and it's devious truth?
In all of its bitter failings and its many crushing defeats
Of private investigations uncovering endless regrets and remorse
Is this what it takes to be a man?

Ssshh..let him be, leave him rest, for tomorrow dawns another day
When all these questions and doubts
Shall be answered by a starlings call or the piercing of a silver bullets heart
Perhaps that's what it shall take to call oneself a man?

i don't know what to do about this bright-eyed boy
with perfect teeth and banter,
i just know he swore to me he wouldn't be another echo of my past lovers and
promises don't mean much to anyone anymore.

The edge of the balcony
Keeps beckoning my name.
The gun in my closet,
Under layers of clothes,
Has felt my hands brush along its sides -
A bit too often,
No - way too many times.
The knife that I cook with,
Seems sharper than most days.
Not sharp enough, perhaps -
Not yet, anyway.
And they have all told me,
The feeling will pass.
And yes, it really does -
More often than not.
But when I think about,
All that I've really got -
I start to imagine:
That extra step,
The pull of the trigger,
The serrated blade.
Setting me free,
Burning me down,
Dragging me away.
My angels will lose,
My demons will stay
And come out to play.

©sajeershaikh