I am still alive. You want to check Listen the heart beats, It still flow the blood. Nervous are still working , Go check it with the bottom . Now came closer Peep in my soul , It's dead . Look in the eyes , They drained. Dreams are vanished Hopes are shattered But no issue , As I am still alive The blood is still flows!!
Will I ever be good enough? I keep finding flaws, Keep comparing myself to others, It's not the things that matter in life, But I still obsess like crazy Am I really that shallow...?
It's just too much pressure, Too many selfies, Too many models, And too much makeup Being yourself doesn't feel enough, Being real feels like being wrong, Being wrong feels scary, But in this case, it's right to be wrong, Because...
I don't want to be one of many, I want to be one of a kind.
Do not make The mindless masses Your moral arbitrator Think don’t just act And forget about Your actions later
It is an altar Of altered skin tones People prostrate Themselves In front of The mirror Trying to mirror Fake reality stars Forgetting what real Role models look like The good guys Who made art with heart Set pen to higher purpose But consumer queens Who have been digitally remastered Get more action Then the masters How many people Remember Percy Shelley Or Michael Landon Two ages apart Two different hearts Who would not abandon Humanity Two voices in the desert One Romantic Poet And one Tv actor Hearts held high They do not lie But your new age heroes Breed greed Sell self interest I miss that Age of curiosity And generation Of compassion
People took pictures of each other Just to prove that they loved one another Just to prove that they really existed
People take pictures of themselves Just to prove that they’re happy with themselves Just to prove that they’re really existing
So they filter their faults, like their Instagram photos And they summarize all that is good in a sentence or two And they practice their smiles as if it is worthwhile To try to like life just to get a few likes
And the only thing that is left to be real Are the things that are real and that people feel They shouldn’t be sharing, thinking it’s scary To actually share what they feel is too real
Gold pennies in designer wallets Shopping lists in silver buckets Running the thirst out like water from dainty pockets All in the name of ***** rackets
A trend show on the outside A hollowness on the inside Heaps of hard price tags aside You are bought but unsatisfied
Glitter screens the cloudy eyes Of those who are in the grave of earthly lies Vanity consumed until the heart dries In a mansion of hedonism, existence nullifies
A jacket made of money would still leave you cold In your last breath, just how many things can you hold? You're the perfect fit of a capitalistic mold And your will has long been sold
This is for some of my schoolmates who can only live like materialists. When you talk to them they are like empty heads who can think of nothing but what clothes to buy next what gadgets to entertain them next. I feel like their lives are floating on what the world feeds them and I find that extremely annoying and sad.
On another note, I am glad to be writing again and not just confessional poetry. Social commentaries are very hard to write but I think I can do them better now. I always force myself to write more of them because I have some strong opinions myself but no one wants to listen. At the very least, writing could provide a listening ear.