maybe my narrator forgot to write me,
as i'm still waiting to be free,
or maybe the world just doesn't create a storyline for us all,
so each time i try to create mine i stumble and fall.
with great desperation for a purpose,
to try and remind myself i'm not worthless,
relying on those few people for contentment,
no matter how much i face their resentment,
and although they let me down each time,
who am i to think they wouldn't decline?,
after all they end up leaving,
so i sit here pitiful and self deceiving,
wondering why wasn't i enough again?,
and how much more of this can i contain.
it's almost like i'm laying back,
in a complete slack,
watching the people i once knew move of with their life,
while i beg for my opportunity to arrive,
staring at the same four walls all day,
while i allow the soul inside of me to decay,
in hopes to one day be someone's person,
but i'm stuck in a constant cycle of introversion.
wishing that at some point,
i wont just disappoint,
my narrator will return,
and i'll have a new life to learn,
the quill grasped in their hand,
inking my future planned.
interpretation:
this poems basically about getting older, watching everyone move on with their lives while leaving you behind in the mean time. feeling like your left behind while everybody else moves ahead with their lives.
YOU ARE READING
forget me not.
ŞiirThis is my first poetry collection i've ever written, it covers several topics. A lot are based on love and relationships but it also covers a lot of sensitive topics such as mental illness, domestic violence, sexual assault, homophobia etc. I've ne...
