The more I grow old,
My empathy grows bigger.
The more I understand,
My feelings become liberal.
A thousand times in a life,
we confess ourselves to an ear,
and in retelling all our strife,
we are redeemed of every fear.
A part of you hates listening,
within yourself you must destroy;
and now your soul is glistening,
with the sweat and blood of joy.
If happiness were easy,
we'd live inside a shadow.
I know it may sound cheesy,
but you simply must let go.
Electronic desires and tectonic fires loosing responsibility
Our world has been here for many leapyear and now we keep it cleaner,
But only when the dying men are close beside the healer
I know it's vague but it took a plague for us to really see her!
The more poems I write
The more I realize
They help me
Give a name to
The sea of emotions
brewing in my mind
Once they have a name
They can be understood
I've only lived so many years
Only lived in so many places
Have only met so many people
And have only experienced so many things
But I've lived more than one life through every connection
Lived in all of the places they have been
Felt every feeling one feels with their loved ones
And have seen time as they have seen
And though it may seem impossible
through their eyes I see me
in their reflection
see yourself in this as you see it. and then ask why.
An avalanche of empathy
covering me in suffocating
That I wasn't the mountain,
more the snow.
Soft and delicate,
sentiment never compacted enough.
How you doing?
Getting on with stuff
In this rough of roughest times?
Or wobbling a bit?
Sit in your jimjams all day. It’s cool.
Anyone with anything worth saying
Be annoyed a lot
And try to smile
But don’t fret if it takes a while
The ups and downs are real. Feel em.
If you have a hug to hand, use it.
If not, accept the alternative
We mean it
I cannot give any more.
I cannot give any more.
But my whole personalities built around "kindness"
and if I cant give then I'm what?
So let's work this out,
whats wrong with your heart?
It won't come out,
no, it won't even start
and then moving on, what's wrong with your brain?
It yearns for the past, but it won't be the same.
it's clear to see you've got a disease.
What's the disease?
Well, its called Empathy.
It means you'll give blood till there's none left to bleed.
But I do not want to be kind!
I only want to survive,
No, this efforts exhausting it's getting me nowhere
and where does that leave me? Alone.
You do not have a choice.
The honey slips into your voice
kindness flows through your veins
and its something that cannot be changed
caring is what fulfills you
lear to harness it before it kills you.
this peom er well its more of lyrics to a song that a WIP is based on an empath
when I try to swallow your tears
I get a bellyache
it is too heavy