I know when to be persistent,
I know when to stop trying.
I'll quit my "*******,"
Stop my "crying."
:)

i would love to
be able to identify
a bird from its call
or the shape of
wide-spread wings
as one flies overhead
in theory
it may seem impressive
but if i were to
successfully distinguish
a chiffchaff from
a willow warbler
based on the patterning
and colour of
its plumage
or the shape
and length of
its tail feathers
i struggle to think
of a single person
who would respond
with more than
an indifferent
mocking or
pandering "oh"

I found a seed, and I planted it.
Watered it daily
Checked the soil in which it sat
Nothing happened so
I changed the potting,  
Giving it sun,
Made sure it saw the light
Checked it everyday
Did everything right,
Waiting for it to sprout something
Anything even.

But it didn't grow,
because the seed died

that initial feeling
of water as
it seeps
through the seams
of a boot
finding cracks
in the leather
supposedly
   waterproofed
against such leaching
of puddles being
drawn in by
a traitorous sock
willing to sacrifice
the fraternity
of dry comfort
that once it held
flooded with irritation
that will be quenched
only with the offering
of an inane
expletive or two
muttered
under breath
carrying the weight
of a week's worth
of frustrations

A lot of you
Would agree
That this world 
Would be a
Better place
Without me

I don't disagree 
In fact, I've been
Wanting to leave
It behind
For as long
As I can remember

So this is
The part where
I'll never recover,
The part where
Life takes me down,
And the scene
That scars
Forever

Again before an emptiness of soul, where all is fears.
Awake but mind devoid of light or any new ideas.
Crushing feeling of loneliness permeates the very air.
Every action taken or ignored devoid of simple care.

How did I become this decayed and empty thing?
Thinking daily upon miseries, so often days before did bring.
Distant, faded memory of the moments that made a smile.
So fleetingly they went to allow despair room all this while.

Worth? A sense of purpose long deserted, gone and fled.
Only a loathing and a pointlessness is left to fill my head.
Long days before today and for others still yet to come,
Without reason to be, certain only eventually I will succumb.

Like coats of paint upon a wall each day another layer smears.
No smiles, no joy, no hope just a face soddened by my tears.
Ever present darkness, shrouds of dark veils upon me, drape.
Calling increasing loudly that there is only one true escape.

Twenty one thousand, nine hundred and fifteen days,
the sum of all my experience, all memory and dream.
Days of smiles and of laughter, scattered as they came,
interspersed with pain so deep my soul still hears the scream.

Accumulated time filled with things of the important everyday,
Through shifting hands of time all things came then hurried on.
By heart or minds good reasons were the choices that I made,
until now where no good remains and all sense of hope is gone.

My mind will sometimes force a replay of some echo of the past,
when hope and love gave purpose to a young man's dreams.
Twenty one thousand nine hundred and sixteen days,
more recent but so much later,
with a soul deafened to all but screams.

While the ocean unfolds
calm as still waters
I’m just another lost soul
floating helplessly with no colors

I’ll go where the tide told me to
because there’s no hope left in me
And everything looked so pointless
so why bother to fight for them

I’ve been screaming, yearning, longing for answers,
for a glimmer of hope
But every time I try harder,
the world brings me down
And here I am

But as the night went by,
and the stars fell down
The sun emerged,
and the warmth grew closer
The morning breeze greets me,
welcoming for a new start
Maybe I don’t have all the answers now
but that doesn’t mean I should settle down
And I may be floating
but i’m discovering the whole sea

Plenty of people
Pour their opinions on me
Find pressure pointless