We are surrounded by the lifeless whether it's the corpses in red or the horde of feeding undead we don't see any niceness in all the ways we have bled so an idea pops in our head to leech the likeness of the zombies instead of what's righteous.
A possum parades around in the trash it's called young and brash by those it evades through darkened paths that harken back to wild ways we should've passed.
The possum pals with predators to avoid the hunters then those gun toting meddlers have the gall to wonder why they got themselves a runner when everything is a red alert then The Battle of Fort Sumter.
We track the terrified critter and stone it a warning from a Kentucky poet: when society is at its lowest we'll pray for atonement not for original sin but being given a life to give instead we fight with shivs this how the lifeless live.
what are you? who are you? is it even a you? my moons are swelling in hells my shatters are flaunting in the same cell my nails are aching for the touch of shells I swim neat water cold as ice feet things I despise under those ***** sheets sat embraced by the greens the autumn's shades falling too well and hugging blades her eyes a funeral's peal all I ask is a little feel something of that past to steal can't sense a speck my violins are scratching their necks orchestral ravens flew the garden of wrecks optimism a false clue the flee to the streets I never knew and she licks the tips of the salty stew oh my spoiled nerves changing each noon can't have can't reach can't leave that moon forks on my table nonexistent all spoons irises are in need of light to bleed the warmth of a single night let the winds ******* like a kite death of me now don't mind hurts of trembling how meet me and sort my bones for me to bow drown me with caffeine erase that stupid fake gleam bring me to the real make me forget and burn me to heal fire my name on that tongue you keep and what a great sleepless night to sleep!
So many thoughts. So many ideas. Yet my mind is blank. Like a painting that hasn’t been started. I want to be beautiful. I want to see colours. I want to bring light to this dark world. But my mind is blank. And yet it is racing. I feel so numb. But I feel everything. I see what could be, but I am stuck. I am happy. I am sad. I am angry. But I am also nothing. I am blank.
I miss the colours. I miss the light. I want it all back. I want to feel again. I want to fight. But I am tired. So tired.
When will I be painted? When will I be finished? will I be filled with light and colours again? Or will I stay blank, and dull. Lifeless.
When your stories are against you You feel like the sideline character Ppl tell you, your Soo farr behind A look at yourself, you would shatter the mirror You hated what you were Even after doing your bestt You felt like a mess You had forgotten where you came from You had forgotten your dreams and ambition Once again when you saw the colors of the world You realized that you weren't the problem Ppl wanted to distroy a talent And you made their challenge simpler.
A poem I wrote after realizing that many people sacrifice themselves to please others, we should always remember that we are the only permanent person in our lives Soo our first priority is to love yourself.
The rose of love withered on the vine In lifeless disposition she'd remain Her syrupy nectar slowly did decline A bewailing sorrow in ending twain No recapture of a past happiness The petals perished browning to dark Disappearing elation's gleefulness A flower's heart minus her loving spark Without the touch of fondness on the bloom Her brilliant brightness faded well away Those wondrous days were replaced by gloom Sombre melancholy of saddest pall's shay As dusk's hour turns to the dying closeness Reflect on the rose's mood of dimness
She stood by the door, with tear-stricken eyes; A small-little push, and they'd be inside. She thought of her mother, who left her all alone; She wished for a father, who would care her like his own. Her thoughts were broken, by the furious bangs on the door; She begged the Lord of mercy, even if she wasn't the one wrong. Her frail body was thrown aside, as they rushed into the room; She closed her dead eyes, awaiting her doom. Throughout the push and pull, she did not utter a word; For she knew her mistake, of being born as a Girl.