"injuring" poems
My my, what a special little snowflake.
Why did you choose to be this way?
You chose to be different, you chose to rebel.
No binary for me!
You chose the grief, the pain.
You chose this abuse, bruised by
the verbal ferociousness, forged by physical fallacies
To be thrown out of bathrooms
because doing your business in the bathroom is abysmal.
You chose to be derided by decisive discrimination.
You chose to be murdered by misconceptions,
***** by ridiculous requirements.
You chose to be beaten, assaulted.
You chose the words I weave to weaken your will.
You chose the sacred sermons I spit at you.
You chose to be
What I find disgusting, despicable
because you chose to be what you aren't,
but I realize what I really regard you to be.
My my, what a special little bigot.
You think I chose to be this way?
You think
I chose the injuring, injustice,
the jester, the joke
the target, tortured,
This pain, my poison,
the prey, praying,
the sinner of sins so bittersweet,
So I could be "special"?
Special isn't a sacrifice of physical self
Nor the gunshots and gruesome grief
Nor even the crass comfort of a half-assed comrade.
You think I CHOSE this,
and you didn't choose
to spit and spew your sour speeches
to disperse your disgust in discrimination
to integrate your ignorance into my existence.
Or did you not choose
to deal the abuse
by your hand
yourself?
My special little bigot,
You live as you are.
So be it, if I am so "special", the special little snowflake.
Yes, we are the little snowflakes that your palm's presence melts away,
And you're that burning persistence of life
Blocking with your own self our slow, wistful descent,
As if it were futility and not of your own will.
If I am the snowflake, you are the fire.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
On the day Liz Taylor died,
CNN called Larry King
out of retirement to
eulogize her during
the mornings
breakfast segment.
Tears were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
TEPCO stated that one
of the Fukushima nuclear
reactors was on fire.
Tears of cataclysm
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
government officials warned
that Tokyo's water was
contaminated with
radiation and was not fit
for infants to drink.
Tears of anguish
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
the crew of the
USS Ronald Reagan
scrubbed the deck
clean of TEPCO
radiation.
Tears of worry
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
Oregonians rushed out to
buy potassium iodine
tablets to counteract
radiation poisoning.
Tears of affliction
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
NATO forces continued
to fire missiles and drop
bombs on Libya.
Tears of agony
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
a terrorist bomb exploded
in Jerusalem, killing one
and injuring many.
Tears of vengeance
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
the Syrian Army fired on
demonstrators
calling for reforms.
Tears of hostility
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
The USA Today reported
that during the past decade
the population of Detroit
declined by 25%.
Tears of loss
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
a dilapidated brownstone
in Philadelphia collapsed;
city officials expect
many more to occur.
Tears of distress
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
President Obama cut
short his Latin American
trip by skipping a tour of
Mayan ruins.
Tears of dismay
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died
the Dow Jones Industrial
Average closed
up 67.39 points.
Tears of joy
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
Elton John dedicated the song,
Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me
to the memory of his departed friend.
Tears were shed.
You Tube Music Video:
Elton John,
Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me
Lewes DE
3/23/11
jbm
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
i am waking up
pushing my way through the plastic covering all of the ideas i was never supposed to touch
so many ideas
i am choosing to walk down halls with varied perspective mirrors
i stop at the ones that make me look fat
and don't believe the ones that reflect a flattering figure
i walk on
i observe
i internalize
i try to understand
why do i think the way that i do?
i was born
into a straightjacket
on the rungs of a one-way ladder
never saw that others might be scaling or ascending the same wall
with rope
sheer strength
the stairs
who am i to judge which way is better?
"the injuring of another can be in no case just."
(as long as it's not hurting anyone)
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 1:14 AM UTC
i’m afraid. i’m absolutely terrified of losing you. i assume things. these ******* scenarios replay in my head like a broken record every second of every ******* day and sometimes i convince myself that they’re real. they broke me, everyone in my past. they completely shattered me. i try so hard to find the courage to trust people but every time i have it just gets torn down again. why am i so stuck in the past? i visit the past so frequently that sometimes days, even weeks will pass and i won’t realize it because i’m trapped in this nightmare of a mind. this is a new form of self-mutilation, and it’s killing me quicker than when my skin was opened, quicker than when my wrists were slammed against the table corner, and hell, even quicker than when i swallowed a fist full of pills every day to give me the numbing high so i could bear the real world. i am weak. i may have “recovered” from physically injuring myself but i’ve got this new method and it seems to be staying for good. you know, the sick part is, that somewhere deep inside of me, i must like it. it acts as a shield. constantly having your guard up is a lovely way to live until you take a peek into reality and see that you’re slowly killing off the people who truly care about you. i am selfish. i am weak. and i am so, so sorry.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
Kali, make me an implement of your final cruelty and wisdom
Where there is motion, let me slow the vibration
So that your senses might attune to stillness
So that you might destroy my innocence and abolish my existence
May Kali Yuga swallow every form
May the myriad wonders go rushing, gushing thru your fangs
May the birth pangs of tomorrow chase the fortune of today
May the endless hours be abolished in calamity
Teach us to acknowledge the concrescence of our essence
Show us finality of form
Destroy the walls of every home—for we have willed it
Forever in a vacuum
May there be no sound of seasons
May every reason fall to chaos
You have made us in your image
Teach us to recognize
Where there is form, void;
Where there is truth, deception;
Where there is certainty, a cosmic pun;
Where there is reality, hallucination;
Where there is touch, neglect;
Where there is growth, a garden full of ashes;
You of many names: Anima, The Serpent Mother, Blessed Other,
Mind of Nature, Mind of Man, She Who Can, She Who Is, Spider Woman, Tao
Bring us to the edge of the unspeakable now
Disrupt our petty play
Absolve us from decay
Amazing how we’ve come so far
And are still so far apart
Everything is natural
I tell myself
But then
What makes us so strange?
Something here is strange
We seek to make it known
Like a deadbeat injuring himself
On the job
In Tennessee
Subject to
Endless repetition
In the marble quarries
Of old Athens
We copy what is known
Expecting praise
While cities of the night
Reveal an ancient face
The body is the portal
The world is but a riddle
On the stone cells of
A tomb
Golden wax
Breeds life
From the base of a great tree
Where an old woman
Sings in praise of Kali Yuga
Calls the pasture to her hand
And all the humming things
Come forward
Blind & obedient
Like unpolished flesh
The drapery billows w/
No motion
Sends the eyeballs off
In search of internal shadows
Where the Other waits
Where it always has
Where it will be confronted
Where it will be embraced
Where it will be known
Or die to our division
& cover up our genitals forever
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
I am a thing.
A conglomeration of atoms.
A little thing you can borrow
From him
Or her
Or anyone, really
But I’m also sort of yours
Just ask you
I am a milky neck beneath long sunny hair
Sunshine, you call me,
Old Man,
Just before you dig your boorish, ***** blutwurst fingers
Straight into my crunchy upper vertebrae
In the spirit of a "neck massage,"
Invading me
Injuring me
Insulting me
Bruising the skin like a ripe peach you have dropped ten times
With your sick fingertips
Until I fear cervical dislocation
That’s a broken neck in lay terms.
Skinny, you call me
Like it is my identity.
Like if I gained weight
You might call me Fatty.
Beautiful, you call me
Like it is my name.
I am not skinny. I am not fat.
I am me shaped.
I am beautiful, but that is the least of my graces.
My name is Hope, ****** Call me Hope.
I am a thing.
A conglomeration of atoms.
A little thing you can subjugate
Without even using your hands.
All you need are words
Because all I’ve got are two X chromosomes.
Women should obey their husbands.
Women should bear children.
Wait, WOMAN isn’t generic enough.
Females.
Females only go to college to get married.
Females spend too much time with other females
But females should not spend too much time with men.
Men.
A man is a male human.
A woman is a female human.
I am a THING that is a HUMAN BEING.
And I would ask you to treat me like one
But until I am more to you than a female
I cannot expect you to act like a man.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
This century spins wilder than prior gyres,
Racing backward, ever more efficient and spectacular,
Study finds.
The weather today, like every day, is
Immense and incomprehensible.
Election week is soon, and the Salv-nation Party candidate
Would like to remind voters of the Party of the Mysterious Robe's Mysteriousness.
Representatives for the PMR gave no comment.
****** digital performer @JezebElsa
Went viral with her leaks. #HollywoodNewz
An impressive number of people we know
Demand justice for all registered unrepentant killers.
A Meteor landed not ironically atop Selfiecomplishment Summit early this morning,
Injuring only the most dedicated hikers.
Confirming folklore, the Meteor disappeared once photographed.
Don't go out trying to find it.
However, you may still purchase a tincture of the liquid it contained
From us at OrganicH2.Org.Headfeed.com
No meteorologists were harmed.
Us vs. Terror: Terrorwatch!:
The Monsters we've been ignoring
Have taken the City and consumed the last of
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 10:07 PM UTC
I got bunches of hope,
full of honey and milk,
rooted to your slope,
dressed in a pinkish silk,
It is craving your babyface,
wandering around your manhood,
invoking copious amounts of grace,
In order to devour as much charm as it can,
gently sluicing sediments from your weary right palm,
massaging it twice and coating it with fragrant balm.
There, In the centre of our old black and white patio,
I am Injuring the rushing longing inside my ruins.
that dares to leap onto your shoulders and make poems.
What sacrifice could I assume to make our souls entwined with a curse of permanence?
Aug 1, 2023
Aug 1, 2023 at 11:54 AM UTC
You could find someone better, trust me I'm someone who hides their feelings beneath their sweaters I'm a distanced person who spaces out even in the moments that are most important. My anxiety keeps me from saying the things that I want to blurt out so badly but cannot because of the words that others will slap down on me. Trust me I'm not someone to stand beside. Toxicity engulfs me often I'm barely pushing through this sticky path that was created out of hate my anxiety is always entertained do you not understand the pain that these people have caused me to feel!?
Insane.
I always thought I was, because my thoughts often turned from happy to horrific once something bad had been said, well what did you expect?! For me to be perfectly happy afterwords and forgive you as if you had never meant the words that twisted and slurred around in my mind, holy **** it's about time you learned your place bullying is not something that can be accepted so easily so stop doing it for ***** sake I cannot begin to describe the way I hated myself for so long! I'm damaged even now from back then and it's been so long! I know you don't give not one single **** It's depressing really, how empty I had and have felt because of you..
Let me try to define this kind of pain for you since I know you'd never be able to handle the things that went through my mind after what you had caused me to feel. You see I have always been trapped inside of a shell, even when I was very young I was shy but you made it a point to deny it's all in my mind you said to me a billion times but did you know that I was dreaming of dying, drowning, suffocating, nearly injuring myself as the tears would fall down. I was a suicidal case thanks to the things people had forced me to endure you thought it was funny but would you still if you knew how violent I had become towards myself?!
Just try to imagine now, you have a child and will probably have more what will you say to them when they come rushing in through the door, their angering tears slapping down against the floorboards as if they were raindrops will you let them know you were not a victim!? I bet you will lie and tell them something to confide in I hope for their sake you do because if I knew that my parents caused others to feel such ways well ******* I bet I'd have went insane knowing I was living in the same house as a perpetrator. How could you do that, mother!?
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 9:32 PM UTC
Just like the recent change of the emerald favorite to the bitter taste of coffee,
the battering gale force winds hammering on the door,
as it screeches to be let in, as it wails of its sorrow.
Reminiscent of the innate excitement of the jiggle of bells,
and half eaten carrots and an emptied glass of whiskey
the passing of casserole dishes full to the brim to borrow.
Knocks on the door loud and swift
kettle boiling and the offering of chocolate sweets all wrapped up in their shiny rainbow wrappings,
Nothing but good wishes and hope for the New Year.
But, what of last years resolutions?
The faded floral wallpaper is still peeling, and cuts that wounded just down to the marrow have not healed.
A ****** bandaged seeping fear.
Change you arrive when planned or as unexpected as the snow in Summer.
You tap on our windows,or you blast through the panes like dynamite
Exploding.Damaging. Injuring.
In a split second you find yourself cracking open a rounded blue tin
to discover a surprise,a green coffee sweet
for better or for worse in this small little ways the world changing.
Changing.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
Leaf spines do their damnedest
to hold onto broken branches.
"These people -- if you could
call them that,"
the old man's shoulders pinch
his bubbling neck, *******
******* -- these opinionated
women; my god, I have never
seen the like, no sir."
Mother, why have you left me.
I can smell you on the freshly
salted roads.
It is so cold here. The snow
may never stop. The wind
has been picking up. I'm
afraid it may blow me away,
somewhere your direction.
"You see, the thing is, this
country -- no, this world --
has changed so **** much.
It's struck me, fearsome, of
what may stay; what may come,"
he runs his thick fingers through
a rather handsome silver patch,
"I wonder if what I mean to say
is that people scare me?
I don't know what that says
about me or about people."
Father, you sit and you drink,
dying in your work boots;
dying in the arms of my dream;
becoming a man slowly razed.
Your eyes are pale hazel
and they grow apart, as your
tongue pushes out, gone for
a few hours; soon missing.
"Mmm. No sir, I suppose this
world ain't for me. Virginia is
hardly the place I once knew...
You know, my wife, she found
the good in everything -- swear.
Found the good in me.
I envied her, in that one way;
she'd see the good in the *******
******* and these women who
just, well, don't know their place.
She'd know. But she ain't here.
Hell, I'm hardly here, tell'ya."
And all my anger I harbor for you,
my mother, I give to the women
I sleep with; the women that
break my heart; the women who
love me forever.
And all my anger I harbor for you,
my father, I try to forget, for you
are my idea of God's love, and
I desperately scratch at your surface,
excusing your roughness injuring my
fingers; forgiving you for covering me
in your blood and everything else you.
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 7:08 PM UTC
i used to think it was silly
to call boys who follow girls around with eager expressions
in their hearts
puppies...
but i understand it now.
you really are
just like a puppy
begging humbly for attention
that you don't think you deserve
bright, wanting eyes
but still happy
just longing
wanting to share things that happened to you
just because you know i'll listen.
it's really not pathetic
when you roll over,
exposing your stomach to me
offering me
your vulnerability
trusting me
with the ability
to stab you where you are the most weak.
just like a puppy,
when someone kicks you
i want to
throw them up against a wall
fight them
break them
for injuring something so helpless
so innocent.
i know you're
23
but somehow
i think you
need me.
i really like puppies,
anyway.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 9:40 PM UTC
It never ceases
To amaze
The worries to come,
Like a sort of frienzed craze
When comes the Day.
A day of new beginning,
Of a fresh new start.
Is it the eagerness
To make our mark
Or the fear of a broken heart?
Is it a voice of reason
Or whispers of doubt
For uncertainty we face
Do we fear what may come about
Or unwillingness and like children we pout?
Or rather do we feel
With no purpose we live.
Our reflection screaming Inadequate
Proving nothing of value left to give
Injuring ourselves with our makeshift shiv
No matter the reason
For you, my heart I lay
We'll face this together
Day by day
So let come what may
-Navahopi119
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 6:27 PM UTC
i am terrible at explaining this feeling. the feeling of not being enough. The feeling of sacrificing life's gold to obtain silver. they say human relationships are pure but what's pure in exchanges which only speak of dreams and desires? what's so pure in exchanges of commodities between souls when the essence of love evaporates in the potency of moonsoon. i think i have done enough for everyone. the emptiness in me is nothing but an anthem of loss of meaning in the miniscule negotiations of life's key moments. and the only way to escape losing my essence is to stop injuring myself and healing the same scars. all over again.
May 19, 2023
May 19, 2023 at 12:15 AM UTC
In a blinded alley
In a tornado’s eye
Otherwise known as
Eternal blindness
So they build you up
Build you up, good
A near-perfect potion
A headstrong, rooted wood
Enter their domain
On a stretcher of wills-
Questionable, collective thrills
Throw pennies in their fountain
Till piggy bank’s in debt
Still there seems one thought
They haven’t collected yet
So they build you up
Outnumbered, how dare you try
To stay tough
Enmeshed in accidents your head
Is not aware of
Still your heart pangs with guilt
From an unknown source
Future hospital bills
Or maybe it’s their stares, glares
And cheap hellos
Their confession of only keeping you around
To see you crawl on all elbows
An all the twilight abductions
Poke, **** and nod your head
Cause it’s all really happening
But you’ve no way in hell to prove it
Didn’t know telepathy could be so
Unsterile, so unclean
As seed is stolen from your bloated belly
Your drowning genes
Your mutilated mind
Your soon extinct scene
They didn’t know you already
Held back the moon in a dream
What excruciating payback
For an unremembered accident
Brought on by your words of now
Echoing your thoughts of then
Plaguing me
Cursing me for the later
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 7:24 PM UTC
I sat by the fire alone,
Snug in my blanket of thoughts –
Incessant.
The wood turned Amber,
And then dark like the thoughts –
Unpleasant.
I looked out of the window,
At the snow covered stillness –
Silent.
And a loan leaf clung on,
To the lonely tree in wilderness –
Resilient.
I praised its resolve
To be connected, to stay -
Forever.
With every blow of the wind,
It grew stronger, unafraid-
Vigor.
Then came the storm
Injuring the lonesome silence –
Blood.
A battle lost, a battle won,
The flinching fist left the leaf to fall –
Thud.
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 12:18 AM UTC
This love is sanctifying me,
wines of ecstasy are pouring on my lips, injuring my soul with moaning,
I desire you only,
I desire the sweetness of our heavenly flavours from which the sun is melting and turning its gaze towards bottomless oceans,
let me drown my being in your absolute existence,
this shy soul of mine is giving fresh buds,
my tears are holy churches springing on Earth, where humble pilgrims search in quest for your graces and succour.
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 8:40 AM UTC
i smoked the cigarette of the moon
on the lip of a river
with a quilts feet
full red & shy
i put my ear
on the wine
hopeful to hear your voice
but with a loud revenge said
i injuring the grapes heart
and it's quenching me blood
Oh ! i'm in love , yes i'm in ...
i ride the Aladdin carpet
on the higher waves desert
Looking for the smile secret
Of the sun to the moon
i walked and winds under darkness fiddle
the symphony of winter on
the autumn string
saturate breath to dead sea
tweeting long to see your face
Oh! a flower in my heart garden
time pick you & strength the dry
is life a Housemates ?
or the mirror time is a juggler !
how can i be sane and your sights
settled the bristles walnuts mosaic
oh ! blond entity,the breeze of your tufts
fertilize the honey more sweetness
Treachery time On me
by the smile of enemies
i wouldn't trust ,but the good hospitality
The arrows war rip my desire
shall i know if
can i escape you love?
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC
Stones which used to be Mountains
worn away by frequent seas
{eroding shores by an ocean’s undulating toll
Will it leave a sound-?-or will all be smitten
by the waves’ pitch and roll,
wearing me down, singing like a siren}
Broken windows in remarkable architectures,
gravel hurled injuring sick and dying edifices
{shattered skeletons by which rusty old panes ache
Will they come back to life-?-or will they crumble
like so much grey mortar
waiting on my grave, my ash like lime}
Substance of life saw so much when solid
now drips its thawing unwanted mobility, unrestrained
{once unique solitary patient glaciers
Will these tepid breezes not extinguish-?-yet hastened
towards the yawning mouth
which empts into the anonymity of the deeps}
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC
Shall we stay for a while in the midnight on the bridge, the river beneath is dried?
Without you disturbing me further, annoying, or injuring my heart.
Shall we?
Shall I ask you don’t say even a word about being cruel or galling of love?
Neither do I expect the romantic situation with burning stars, or smooth blowing breeze to pamper cheeks inwards…nothing … I expect for nothing.
What I wait for is only staying for a while. Be patient and calm enough to look at my eyes, someone whose crime is only loving you and ask yourself …why?
Why nightmarish tortures appropriate to her?
why?
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 4:37 AM UTC
Days ago
there was a battle;
a struggle with waves of
relentless fury and
a choking sorrow,
wounds left to bleed,
but no one else could
know or see.
These wretched winds
were too intense for
me alone to stop;
I tried to reign them in,
but just could not.
Wrestling with injuring
thoughts and chaotic
emotions, alone,
I hadn’t realized another
was watching, guarding
over me, so to speak.
A silent sentinel,
waiting, observing,
making sure that no one
else got hurt
by the brutal storm
raging deep.
The whole time
he lovingly held the reigns,
and now handed them back
over to me.
He placed them gently
in my naked hands,
as his remained leathered
and gloved.
Now I wake
and a blanket of sorrow
covers me, like a
worn sweater,
but the dangerous winds
have died down;
I can once again handle them,
on my own.
None other can truly ‘see’
beneath the layers of
foreign smiles and
thoughtful words,
but he can;
he knows this ache,
understands the dark melody
and in kindness he rides,
he rides
just for me.
I sit high upon the tallest tree
just to witness
with my heart and soul
this thrilling ride he takes,
for me.
Round and round he goes,
gracefully weaving and swerving
to and fro.
For him there is no need
of practice,
yet he rides just for me,
‘cause he knows it
simply makes me happy.
The sounds of the engine,
the leathered hands
gripping the handles,
clutch and throttle;
a most beautiful sight to see,
and he does all this
whenever there’s need.
He does this all
for me.
An intricate flow
of movement,
this connection between
a rider and his bike.
A fascinating exchange
between flesh and machine,
as I have resigned myself
to never truly knowing it,
as I watch this
Angel on wheels.
He rides and swerves
with never a stutter,
never a clumsy fall,
and I simply smile
as it fills me with a
modicum of glee
as I get to watch
as he rides,
rides so skillfully,
just for me to see…
this Angel on wheels.
-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights 28 March 15
Saturday
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 9:44 AM UTC
Unscrupulous, surreptitious, and without a doubt, unnerving! This innate dissonance, have you ever encountered such a vile thing? Like a rainforest of such beauty and tranquility only to be interrupted by the bombs of war! Thundering amongst the hail of bullets are massive planes accompanied by perilous sounds from tanks and agonizing death screams! The disgusting noise pollution of such dissonance within this imagery is just too much to bear!
You see, this world is filled with contrasts. Black and white, night and day. There's never a boring moment once you've become insane yet there's nothing to do when you're sane! It's highly implied that life is incomplete without death. Like the fingerprints on our fingers, life is diverse and unique, yet in this instance, everything's a mess!
The ears can see and the eyes would hear, and I'm driven insane by this sight! The heart can think and the mind can feel, and I would bitterly claim that I do not think to feel these types of things. These bombshells called emotions has destroyed my tranquil mind space. It has been filled with the shrapnel of you, setting me ablaze and injuring my inner confines like say, my gut, for I feel butterflies in my stomach. I feel as if I'll be plucking up daisies from that grassland I've once sat on. You've ruined my orchestra with dissonant notes.
I couldn't ask for more.
You revel in the ever-changing.
In my dissonance,
I'll then hand you this note:
"I thank thee for the chaos one hath brought upon me; I crumble down as I am rebuilt. Like the earth born from planetary collisions, we've collided. I hope to be amongst the stars, like the earth, filled with life."
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
sleep hides in dimmest corners of the night
refusing to reach out and hold us dear
for far too long our fears and pains seem bright
like scars of whiteness injuring the sight
bringing so many distant horrors near
sleep hides in dimmest corners of the night
while on each eye some terror will alight
so waking mind can slowly shred and tear
for far too long our fears and pains seem bright
thought after thought revolves upon harsh blight
and inner rack we’re thorough-cooked by fear
sleeps hides in dimmest corners of the night
options seem few and hope reduced to slight
expecting that the dawn might bring cool air
for far too long our fears and pains seem bright
yet there are answers left to turn times right
repairing rest while giving breath to spare
sleep hides in dimmest corners of the night
for far too long our fears and pains seem bright
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 8:38 PM UTC
You run at full speed to the finish line,
But you keep falling on the ground,
Injuring your knee and pride.
Life continuously pushes obstacles in your way,
Leading to a feeling of throwing in the towel,
Sick of all the hurdles on the road.
Sitting with dark thoughts creeping up,
Scared of the negative outcome,
Which is the spark for getting up.
Once realizing that survival is the only option,
You grab a firm hold of your cloth,
And run with determination to reach the end.
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 6:17 AM UTC