#deadends
once I'd wanted bubbles
so I made them true
from within couldn't taste a lot
and so I tied my knot
void from unseen choices
alluded swiftly by a single trail
now things I find in you, so rare
I never thought were in the air
walking my eyes open wide
unrecognized was you, walkable buddy
for this path
a pink bubble bath
nobody seem to understand
I don't mind, it's our land
bunch of sober junkies
hanabi against death row
you eat it fast
I eat it slow
Jun 27, 2019
Jun 27, 2019 at 4:40 AM UTC
All the escape routes I found were dead ends
I hate when everyone around me just pretends
Ever wondered if life's worth living?
Got scared every time you thought of ending it?
Will the parents & gods ever be forgiving?
Trust me it’s not that easy to quit!
How do we end the suffering?
How long should we bear the suffering?
The only one way to end the suffering is to suffer
if you choose a different path, it’ll just get tougher.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 4:50 AM UTC
So who ever birthed this version of
mans needing to blame another...
regrettably we seem to blame another...
but when it was stitched into the verse..
to many cooks cooking to many in verse..
But then he slipped in free will, will
he let us grow our own apples but
now he let us choke on our will
to eat what we sewed, then we said, but...
Shoved in the cold, but still our path
was pre-written, but his spelling missed its path.
Now who can sink and swim, I'm not a fish?
but now those pre-written, drowning food for fish.
I'm confused and insecure, that I'm but a string
that just pulled, now tie in this piece of string?
What I'm just tied in a story not of my own.
But then I unknotted myself my stories my own.
I found that a path isn't just one but a crossroads
of my design. How many paths are crossroads,
how many fall between dead ends I don't care,
my life is my own, no abandonment issues to care.
I'll eat every dam apple, I want to eat to be me,
sulk to my freedom of thought ill always be me.
I'll walk this collection of glances, and look up seeing
the universe clearly, it a life of chaos that I'm seeing.
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 5:36 PM UTC
There’s something wrong
With the rain tonight,
Not quite right
And unattended –
Desolate little drops,
A plenty and falling,
Or leaping,
As suicide’s now stained –
The houses, the trees,
The tollbooths, the tires
And doldrums my feet now reside.
In angst over wet, these lesser and
Imagined crimson,
I encounter a wind,
Quite possibly a whisper,
But a chill to remind bone –
That we all end someday
And we’ll all be ended
Someday
As well.
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC