Pain, My existence
love, My fantasy
i dream of days to come
the days i hear about
when it will be better
when it wont hurt so much
I am lost
I am confused
i am crying
on the inside
I am broken
Is this poem doing what its supposed to
Am i reaching out?
Am i wasting your time
Havent written a poem in years, just wrote words that came to me. Want to get back to writing, i was in high school when i stopped. poetry helped with the loneliness
I sit in my room and try to imagine my future
Not for lack of imagination or lack of trying
But for the lack of purpose
I see no reason to walk on the path of others
And i see no reason to start my own
My family looks to me for the future
I smile and tell them it is bright
They do not see that i myself am in the dark
But a few words to describe me
I die by the minute
I cry for relief
This world is built on pain
From the banishment of Eden
To this moment
This world knows no joy
To cry is meaningless
To complain is meaningless
This is a work in progress. Help and/correction is gladly welcomed
To Death be the glory
Great things it has done.
To Death be respect
For non can outrun
Oh killer, slayer of men
Take me swiftly, take me gently
Take me now if you can
Better to have never loved, than to have loved and been left in the cold alone with a broken heart.
Better to have told me in the start that you weren't going to stay, than to let me build a mansion in which every night i will spend alone.
Better to have never said i love you, if you didn't mean forever.
What i am to them is an ornament.
My value is determined by the scales they use.
Freedom is a dream that looks far from reality.
Freedom is for the full who's destined for poverty.
A puppet of their play, they control me with strings.
Make me dance the mariet and clap hands and their so called brilliance.
A pawn in their game, they expect me to win.
Feed me steroids of spiritual wisdom and belief, to become the warrior destined to free them from their doom and misery.
The mascot they use to boost their fame.
Expect me to tell the world, they're the reason i am this way.
A well disciplined, obedient good mannered boy.
Parents and teacher.
The wardens of teenagers.
The tormentors of my soul.
With a leash around my neck i bow to drink.
Commands telling me where to step and how to breath.
They claim to know what i truelly need.
Know whats best. What will make me succeed.
Yet deny me life and the right to live.
They dont trust my words, call me rash and impatiant.
Believe i'm a teenager who knows not right from wrong.
To be free, what should i do?
Runaway from home or commit teenage suicide.
They think they know best.
When really, they dont know who i am at all.