A tool made of humanity,
yet the humanity is missing.
Empty, spilled and broken down,
it struggles even existing.
Unheard or ignored- it does not know,
distracted by faking the feeling of belonging.
It does not know the sound of its laughter,
as the occasional smile has long been lost.
Bitterness but happiness of being alongside its users,
clashing deep inside.
It cannot hold for far much longer,
deafened by its screams.
The want to be used, the want to be included crash,
disturbing and disrupting and destroying what's left inside.
But realisation hits; it's not the want to be used,
but the want to be useful.
When you're useful, you can be included.
You're included when you're useful.
But if you're only of use, people will do exactly that,
using you until you're used up.
But does that still make you somehow included?
Being used assures you being around others.
While it might hurt to be abused,
it might be the only way to belong.
-BCL
YOU ARE READING
Poems of Them
PoesíaMultiple poems are held inside here. Those are the kind to be written from experiences, Knowledge, Dreams and goals. Yet also hold disturbing pictures, at least for some. A life is not always pretty. Mind yourself.
