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Jia En Oct 20
They tell me
So many
Ways to solve my
Problems; days go by
And I hear the same things
Over and over. The people speaking
May be different but it all
Just sounds the same. I fall
For the same tricks again
And again,
Same so-called friends
And my permanent mindset.
You’d think I haven’t tried yet
But the worst part
Is that I’ve taken
The suggestions
To heart;
Tried so many times to start
(Because I know
They would probably make life so
Much better)
But it just never works with me.
They’re probably
Right about needing to reflect.
What else could the problem be?
Because (apparently)
It is always my choice;
Yell in joy or raise my voice.
Because you cannot blame
Others when they make
The same
Mistakes.
Because when they promised they
Wouldn’t, they didn’t mean
What they say.
Because you don’t have the right
To make yourself seen
To society.
No right to influence others,
Even though the people
Still keep tabs on one another.
Because there is no one except
Me that can’t accept
Others for who they are.
Because people you consider close
Have the right to decide
They’ll be far
From your side.
You call it constraints.
I’d like to call it selfish complaints
In their heads
But of course I read
The room wrong.
Because it was my choice
To not be able to be strong
Today.
That’s why I can’t say
No one cares.
Because it isn’t fair
To expect some love
In return when I put you above
Everyone, everything
Else. Because I can’t think
That friends should benefit
From being together. It
Simply
Isn’t right for me
To expect the best from you
Because it was my choice to
Do
It all.
Because when I fall
Down,
I shouldn’t expect anyone around
To actually try and pick
Me up. People’s lives are quick
And busy;
And the only constant
In the friendships falling apart
Is me.
Because being useless,
Talentless
And joyless
Was all my decision.
There is no such thing as imprecision
Here. It’s all you,
Not them. They didn’t do
Anything wrong.
It’s your fault you can’t
Get along.
Constraints apply to them,
Not you.
Don’t even think
Of that excuse.
Go self-reflect on how
You need to change now.
After all, no one has the rights
To tell you
What to
Do.
it's 5 pieces of a5 paper long **** all in one stanza also uh it would mean a lot if you actually read it so... thanks in advance i guess...?
DeAnn Nov 2017
Sometimes I write and I write and I write.
For seconds, minutes, hours on end
And then I stop and look back over what I wrote.

"What the hell? Why am I so sad?"
I ask myself daily

I think about taking my mom's advice: writing a list of things I am grateful and thankful until I'm happy
Then maybe that will make me write happier

So I do that
Yet the guilt I feel for having all I have sets in and makes it worse than before

And I write and I write and I write
And it's still sad and depressing

I think about taking my dad's advice: go exercise, do things that make me happy until I'm happy
Then maybe that will make me write happier

So I do that
Yet the sorrow settles in from the past and doing these same activities when I was happier

And I write and I write and I write
And it's still sad and depressing

But you know what?
**** it all.
Because maybe writing sad is what makes me happy
Maybe it gets all the rage, sad, depression, anxiety, fear, and guilt out of my system so I no longer have to hold everything in
Like a bottle that needs to explode but has no outlet

— The End —