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ekelhaft  Nov 2017
I am a Coward.
ekelhaft Nov 2017
I am a coward,
But you wouldn't know that,
Because I am a coward.
Through my thoughts and words.

I am a coward,
Silent when I should've been loud;
I am a coward,
Doubtful when I should've been proud.

I shall bring shame to my family,
As some of them have brought mine;
I shall bring shame to those who surround me,
Those who said I shouldn't give up on the line.

I will be selfish,
I will be foolish,
I will be fiendish,
I will try to end it.

I have seen the ugly,
I have felt how ugly.
I have seen your sorrows;
Yet I have not faced mine.

Now I am a coward,
Keeping the things I should've said,
Nothing more than a coward,
A lost cause better dead.

Don't blame yourself,
When you come see my grave,
Put your fake face on the shelf,
For once don't be a knave.

For those I will leave grieving,
I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough;
Maybe you did start caring,
Started caring but not enough.

I am a coward.
Put none on faith,
All alone, a *******,
Alone and lost and frail.

I am a coward,
To let myself be conquered,
By sickness and my thoughts,
By circumstance and words.

I am a coward,
Without saying why;
I am a coward,
To leave without saying goodbye.

I am a coward,
To end abruptly my own strife,
I wish you would forgive me,
For giving up my life.

To those who see these words,
May my omen bring you a sign;
Don't be alone, or at least try;
Don't repeat what mistake have I.

I am a coward.
It took me so long to let you know.
I am a coward.
Hopefully this goodbye isn't just for show.
I'm sorry but I'll try to **** myself tonight.

The pain's so much to bear

A dumb decision but one I stand by

Skyler M  Feb 2019
Skyler M Feb 2019
Believer takes his hat and coat,
Walks out of his room,
Into a misty gloom where shadows warp his irises,
And he falls and falls straight into heaven.

Disbeliever steals a rock from the underground cave,
Ties it to his ankle never floats away,
Blasphemy is and will always be his life,
Every night the disbeliever sat near his bed,
Praying to Believer above,
When it never came he took the name,

Believer took pity and asked heaven for an angel,
The angel couldn't do much but mourn with Coward,
As his disbelief kept his sight blinded,
And he was content, by god he never wanted to let go.

Plants grew into Coward's room,
His frame growing frail and tired,
Years of fighting and giving up drained his veins,
Finally, an ounce of death brought a clearing in his vision,
Coward saw his angel and shot it not once, not twice, but thrice,
Once for the son, second for the father, the third for the holy spirit.

Believer took this as a sign,
That he was fearful of something controlling his life,
Coward needed to control and stabilize himself his way,
No angels over his shoulder,
No rules to abide by,
Whether it was real or not,
It was Coward who needed to learn to heal himself.

Coward shot himself once more and bandaged his wound with care,
Taking his blood with him,
He inspected it's contents,
Wondering what was inside that cursed and plagued his life,
He found that it was all himself and things he told himself,
To a shock and a conclusion of misery,
Coward knew that once he got off of his ride,
He'd have to drain his blood and purify it,
It took every ounce of sadness and courage,
But it worked. Oh god it worked.
Victoria G Sep 2015
I am a coward and you are a giant
When I close my eyes, I see you smiling
I can't help but think that we deserve a shot
But quickly chide myself for entertaining the thought
Because I am a coward and you are a giant
When I see your face, I can't stop smiling
I think of the way your hand sat on my shoulder
And what we could be if we were a little older
But I am a coward and you are giant
And the universe has no regard for timing
Maybe someday I'll finally be brave
And say this out loud to your face
Today I'm a coward and you are a giant
And if I said I could move on I'd be lying
Not a coward
But a cup overflowing
With the damning dark

Not a coward
But a human capable
Of emotion's full spectrum

Not a coward
But a father unable
To see through the deafening dark

Not a coward
But a man plagued
By plundering depression

Not a coward
But someone like me
Wading through a cell

Not a coward
But a person trying to breathe
Yet inhaling only that which drowns

His muses became his captors
His brain became his prison
His family became his mourners

But he was not a coward
He just wasn't a survivor
Soldiers slain under the hand of their enemies have not died because they cowered from their duties. They were overwhelmed, perhaps disadvantaged. We misunderstand depression as a society. We think it's a choice, something we can turn off and on. Like our phones, or the lights in our houses. But humans are not switches. Chester was not a coward.
He was a human.
Dexteix Sep 2014
Passing over mountains
and forging over fords
slipping though forests
filled with dappled shapes,
the Coward-King makes his escape

His heart is beating
and his mind is fleeing
As behind Him
burns all he has ever known

His kingdom ablaze
His cities razed
Fields salted
books torn and statues melted
His people fighting in the ruins
dying ,trying,
to let this not be the end

Flee Coward-King
as your nature becomes known
as the mailed fist torches your own.
**** whats been done!
the Great Enemy has come!
the dread Master
of a dark and terrible horde
and his servants seek you
with ****** swords

Dark Knights on vile steeds
Grim men of black heart
Exiles and renegades
each eager to do his part

To bring you low
to make sure you reap
what you've sown
Can you hear the hounds a baying?
Neath the trees swaying
was that the sound of horses neighing?
The shadows playing
Your wits derailing,

Your fortress walls have failed
and your flight will be to no avail
Hi everyone, second part of what may end up being a series. I had some issues with this one, as it got a bit hairy there for a second. I am also uncertain about the second last stanza, I have not found something similar but I could be wrong apart from the reap what you sow stuff.
Any event, feed me critiques as its only my second posted work and I may need to rewrite.
JC Lucas  Mar 2016
turning coward
JC Lucas Mar 2016
The poetry’s gone to **** lately.
Mostly I mean there isn’t much,
but what there is isn’t that good.
Maybe, *******, life’s just
not awful these days.

Maybe my eye for the magic in the monotony’s just gotten

I feel too good to even resent whatever it is
making me limp-dicked.

“coward,” I think.
“******* coward.”

And in a minute,
the coward I am,
I’ll probably set this page down,
walk to the television,
turn it on
and submit
like a coward

like a corpse
under a sky of infinitely small pixels
flashing on
and off
and off.
(love poem for a computer screen)

— The End —