I have to write a happy poem
Even though it’s hard
It’s so strange how happy I tend to be
It’s just my words typed are
muddy

with sorrow and defeat and
fight, fight, fight against someone
I don’t know
who-

could it be?
Am I crazy or sane?
Inside my brain is there a problem
that makes me fake or am I
real?

Do I just shpeal the wrong words at
the wrong times and they just don’t
appeal the way
I want them to.

This poem is not happy
and that makes me sad
Sad and mad but not in the way
that makes me want to fight
the way that keeps
the insomniacs up at night

but

I sleep soundly.

Now I see how confusing this poem
is coming out to be
I should
stop.

Stop now or stop writing I’m
not sure but how
can we be certain of anything
when everyone of us is
bursting with ideas
but so confined.
So confined.

I never want my mind
to feel that way.

The sink is dead.
It’s covered in red.
I watch it swirl
like a Christmas mint.
Never really liked mint much.

I don’t know why
the sink decided to die.
Maybe it’s because all
it does is cry and cry
like me.

The room is getting hazy,
and the razor in my hand
feels lazy.
I’m stumbling falling
down, down down.
The sink weeps tears of scarlet

I don’t know why you are crying, Sink.
You got your wish,
I got mine.
I’m fading now, so quietly.
Your tears are wetting my face.
Or maybe they’re mine.

Goodbye, Sink,
these are my final moments.

Maybe

it would have ended different somehow.

Maybe

next time someone will help you.

Maybe

next time someone will help me.

Can't you see
That person who lies
in the **** of the earth?
The one who's eyes
shamelessly share their tale of misery?
You are the same
You and he.

In our fight to survive
we've let others fall behind
left them in the dust when all it took
was to pick them up
brush them off
and ask them to come with us.

But instead greed took over
No longer did we want to survive
we wanted to succeed
Live in excess and luxary
even if that meant
leaving old friends in squaller

What happened that made us so selfish and
cruel?
That we can't give a dime for the hungry to have food?

Wishing won't make these problems dissappear
Action is the only way to help those who've chosen not to hear
the cries of those who's stomachs never silence

How can so many be oblivious?
Can't you see they're really us?
One mistake, one wrong answer
The right place at the right time
That's all it takes
The flap of a butterfly's wings
and suddenly it's you who's stomach sings

History erased. Stories respoken to tell a
different tale.
Lives traded, their kindness will prevail.

But the question remains
Would you do the same?
Tomorrow, the next
when I am not here to tell you my tale
Will your head fill again
with false ignorance?
Will the sorrow of starvation
become silent to your ears?

If so, lead with your heart and not your head
Because when you're dead and gone
Let your legacy live on
As someone who did something.

So surreal how your future can change
in a moment
So few words that mean so much
Enough to erase the facade I once
lived beyond
hidden to the reality that is true to be
Lonely, I am now
that is the price for the future I
seek

You never realize how quickly things can end,
until they do.