I'm feeling better than I ever have before, now that I've killed everything
the mirror lies in broken shards, your broken bones reflected in the light
and I know that I've crossed the line that we drew
between passion and the loathing that I feel for you.
I haven't had a smile this real since the last time
I saw the hopelessness in your eyes
all the times you made me fall
when I was standing on stable ground
the lies that you told me
accounted for by each burning ember of your dreams
every failure I endured
only to be comforted by your poison words
now I regret not being able to live without you
an addiction laying on the bathroom floor
and your last words echoe through my mind
"so this is what suffocation feels like"
a wise man once said "you're alone in this world
and when you die, you're alone in the next"
so i'm saving my favors for those cold rainy days
when the blue's washed away from the rest
these streets are all empty, just sad and confused
filled with ghosts who are filled with regrets
and there's a man on the corner looking for change
he says "son can you spare me a dime?"
i dip into my pockets and look into his eyes
and say "sir can you spare me some time?"
cus' I've been feeling quite lonely, like I don't really exist
just a shadow of what I once was
and i walk downtown on main, crossing oak and birch roads
much more beautiful than we'll ever know
now my footsteps skip beat, on the tired black tar
and my heart in my tired bruised chest
when all these voices have ceased, only trees whisper prayer
and this silence is golden, but only in death is it pure
and now i lay down on the sidewalk, my frame outlined in chalk
that I drew when I was just six years old
but the colors have faded, into vague hues
and the sounds of my laughter have all been washed out
by rain and by memories, I've since long forgot
and I ask to myself, when will this end to begin
will this ever end...
Here is a poem I wrote about the book "To Kill a Mocking Bird" that I was forced to do for language arts. I thought it was ok, and it got me a 100.
Inner Wisdom
Define the word youth,
Is it the passion for excitement?
The imagination wielded by their minds?
Or is it just a word to say stupid,
Or maybe just ignorant.
Define the word ignorant,
Is it not knowing the entire world?
Or does it pertain to children?
Perhaps children are the only ones not ignorant,
Perhaps adults are the fools,
And the children are the wise.
Define what we call wisdom,
Is it just knowledge and maturity?
Maybe it’s just another word to make one feel better,
Is it limited to one’s age?
Or does it all change upon the person behind it.
Do they gain wisdom from the books?
Do they gain wisdom from their past?
Or do they merely gain wisdom from everything.
Are any of these the right question?
Do we ever actually know the right question?
Maybe we hear it from a child,
And ignore it because of their age,
And maybe the question is in front of our eyes,
And unknowingly we pass it on,
So that our children will know it,
And never see it there.
The mind of a child is more complex than anything,
Not because we cannot make sense of it,
But because their minds remain open,
While over time our minds close through life,
Though we try, we cannot get back out,
And forever our minds remain locked.
Youth is the part of our life where we are free,
The part of our life where we can pretend to be something else,
Where we can explore what we shouldn’t,
And define our own ideals without them being criticized,
It’s the part in time where what we don’t understand,
Are the things that make the most sense.
Though youths may look up at adults in admiration,
They do not know that the adults look down,
Into the pure eyes of the children,
And stare with disbelief,
At the way the mind works,
How they can see clearly,
What adults cannot.
Youth, ignorance, and wisdom
Three things that make no sense together,
Yet they are always there,
Just waiting for a child to grow up,
And remain the same.
Maybe a bond can bring this wisdom with it,
The bond between brother and sister,
Maybe as the brother grows older,
He can learn from his sister what he doesn’t understand,
Then again maybe he will deny it out of pride,
Fearing that a youth knows more than him,
And thinking it is bad.
Without ever realizing,
That at one time he knew the same things,
One time he was not tainted by society,
And was once that pure,
That all the youth is doing,
Is reminding him of his InnerChild.
It's good, I can see how you got a 100 on it, especially since it was in conjunction with that particular book.
Just wrote this, don't know where I was going.
Another day is falling below the horizon
another failure that I claim as my own
and now the future looks no brighter
now that I face it all alone
The trees they whisper
"what have you done now"
my response silenced by the breeze
the heaviness upon my shoulders
brings me slowly to my knees
I've struggled so long for perfection
to find lies within the frame
its the fact!
.
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