Being stuck in the repetitive patterns of fate
I want to escape
This mess that I never chose to be in
The blood that I had no hand in claiming as mine.
Being stuck in the repetitive patterns of fate
I want to escape
This maze that I never wanted to enter
But was pushed in by my own.
Being stuck in the mayhem of people
Whom fate chose for me
I know how it's like being an odd black sheep
There's no pride in it, believe me.
Only a cold remembrance of how I am not what they had assumed me to be.
Pain pours into poetry
As this is salvation
Breathing through words
Letting the words know that I am there, the heart beating.
Strange how you are born different
Yet cannot choose to be with your likes
Blood is a bondage, often
Dried out feelings layered upon the coffin of dead wishes.
I speak, I scream
I thump my foot
I cry, I beg
But no use.
It's not I who rule,
Nevermind.
But it's not even my voice that is heard.
It's all a lesson, it seems
Fake sympathies, faraway prayers
Ego battles and half-dead cannibals running after my heart.
'Cause I am so full of life and charm
That they can't bear.
YOU ARE READING
Words And Secrets
PoetryWords spill out secrets And the more I speak, the more I regret Yet, my lips remain parted until I utter a new word And so it goes on, this story of telling tales!❣
