Feel it stabbing into me, that searing static noise,
As they drill around and cut so deep into my brain.
My pathetic want of illusory grandeur, a piece of paper is all it takes.
Every word feels like a dragging train parading my body on a road of blades.Science and maths that I loved most of all,
Are like rolling mountains that I have to crawl.
So good with words, English I really like,
But now I'm terrible with language I don't know why.My simple view of the world revolving around school,
Now feels like a complicated maze that suffocates my soul.
The resolve I own can't seem to solve,
The demons' homework of "swinging on a tight rope."Mimicking robots, I count days like numbers;
Every second feels like an hour on space.
Every minute I hypnotically swim through words,
With every moment ultimately leading to a waste.Is it really wrong to question what I learn?
Is it really right our way of new normal now?
Can you really understand the words behind the screen?
Can they really see who turned our hearts to become bleek?I wonder who could it be?
Can you tell me?
YOU ARE READING
Moon Child | Ongoing
Poetry"Home isn't always four walls. Sometimes it's one warm embrace And two people's heartbeats as one. " - Moon Child (StarHues) Collection of poems mostly tackling about falling in love with someone out of your reach. Musings about the pain of unrequit...