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brandon nagley Jul 2015
I guess
What feareth me the most
Is feeling like
Im the only one in this...
Äŧül Jan 2015
I know a bitter man,
Bitter he grew from being a sweet boy,
Butter he applied to things but it didn't work out,
That bitter man here is me who often chews bitter tablets.
Fearing love I have gotten experienced the bitter way,
Know I not of any other love in any other better way.
Oh how I know about myself apparently adamantly,
I know myself but nobody as good - no better man.

Just a poem inspired by reality.
My HP Poem #738
©Atul Kaushal
simply tylla Apr 2014
Fear is like a plague.
There’s no getting away from that aching
feeling of uncertainty that follows you
everywhere you go, finding you
even in the smallest of corners.

Fear is like a fire that you can’t tame
because trying to put it out only makes it grow
stronger and although people tell you
to face your fears, once it sets in,
spreading faster, is there really a way
to get away from something once it has
complete control over you?

You grow up with the pain of fear.
Fear that nothing good will ever come
because that’s just how the world works.
The pain, the depression, and the rejection
can easily be masked with a small smile
that says you’re fine.

It gets to the point where that small smile
becomes the biggest lie in the world;
a lie to deceive anyone and anything that
it comes in contact with.

Yet, no matter how big the lie may be,
it holds the power to make something
good slowly turn into something bad;
where the lie not only deceives
everyone else but also
ourselves in the end.

Lies about who we’re not become
truths about who we are to become.

The world works in ways where
the truth is a lie and a lie is
the truth if you’re willing to believe it.
They get tangled into such a web where
you no longer know the difference
between the two, only causing misery
in the long run.

It gets so etched into your mind
that you lose who you are to it
and once that happens,
the day has arrived where
you may wake up in the morning,
look in the mirror and no longer recognize
the stranger in front of you.

It’s the day you realize that so much time
has passed that the person you once were
is no longer who you are.

You won’t know the difference between good or bad,
you won’t know who you had been,
or what you had become.

There’s no starting over,
no returning to what use to be;
all you have is that one moment and
you live inside that same moment until
the deception finally kills you over.

— The End —