It's not the flowery thoughts that fills my head.
Its the darkness that surrounds
The dead thorns,
and the ashen leaves-
that were once lively.
Couldn't enjoy it while it lasted.
If only I could take back
what I had wasted,
maybe the remorse I feel
wouldn't be this consuming.
Maybe this bleak mind of mine
would've still been full.
Maybe the repentance that others see,
wouldn't have been ignored.
Maybe I wouldn't have been oh-so obscure..
Insignificant.
That's what I am.
But the justification for their sitrring actions
seems way absurd than the action itself.
This is not for the weakest of hearts.
For they can't hold on
to the bars ablaze.
They say to cover away.
To be like them.
To imitate their blinkered mindset.
To be caged in their expectations
and please everyone in sight.
For your life is theirs to judge
and not yours to live.
~si
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PoetryM O N A C H O P S I S the persistent feeling that you're out of place or don't belong. A collection of poems.
