Feelings, is what they tell me

Low, is how my life goes

Lord, am I unholy

Control, is what they sell me

Despise, I let control me

Soul, is my own misery

Storm's, entertain me

The beast in me, is my only friend
Who helps me carry on.

come down off your thrown
because one day you'll be alone

high and might as you think of yourself
somebody must change or you'll be on your own

you are the reason, i'm wasting my time

I love to read poetry in motion
I love to read poems that flow

But I'm caught in this crossfire
Because I must write about my life

As I lay back and think about my life,
from my childhood to the end.

Like most kids we played our own way.
We made up our rules for the game of the day.

In our adolescent years 13 to 19 which is our puberty years.
We learn about life and what does it mean.

Then in our twenties is when we have fun.
We experiment with ***, drugs and love.

When we hit our thirties, life then begins.
We look for a wife, a job or  career .

The fourties then come, and then to some.
Life starts to change from fun and games.

When the fifties hit, it'***** and miss.
They try to have fun and sometimes it comes.

They then hit sixty, and it's now their time.
Time to slow down and have simple fun.

Now in their seventies, life starts to change.
Some get dementia, some go away.

Wow the eighties, life gets hard and help is needed.
Show them your love, their your family.

Then comes the nineties, there not much fun. We keep hope hospice in mind with love and god.

100 hits, someone made it. What a day, it's celebrated in every way.

I close my eyes
And I just can't seem to

Fall

Asleep.
Because no one is there to

Catch me

To hold me
When the nightmares wake me

Shake me

Awake.
So I don't close my eyes.
I would rather be awake
That way I can stop

Falling

Into the fear,
The nightmares,
The dream that don't come true...

Its 2:30 am
and
here I am blowing cigarette smoke
into the wind
While sitting under the cloudy skies
I desperately wish to dissolve
into the night

Once the depression becomes routine,
Happiness never really feels comfortable again.
It comes around
now and then,
like an old friend.
You laugh and drink
and reminisce about all the plans you had that never panned out.
All the hope you invested,
in the jobs, the relationships, the dreams and goals.
And you laugh at how foolish you once were for ever having such ideas.
But the laughter dies out
And your smile fades
And you know in the back of your mind
that soon, your happiness will be gone again,
and you can never quite forgive it for leaving.
You cant blame it,
All you ever did was hold it back.
Maybe somebody else could make better use of it.
And the depression,
Well the depression is no Stranger.