he's idealistic and enchanted
with immobile decor
he handles authority
when he'd dead as a door
with individual authority
he'll bribe it for score
because he craves his adulthood
but acts like a chore
to all those he's knowing
he wears a face of toughness
but his blue eyes are rimmed
with dark hues of sadness
and they're salty
like his body
and white where he spits
because his mouth tastes like metal
from the silver spoons he's had with bullshit
that have set him up for failure
for gratification and for trust
which he searches for, sadly
and weeps for refuseless
inside of himself
he has no feeling
his limbs are hollow
and he struggles with healing
his weaknesses ache against the force he creates
he is despondent and panicked and lost
he is skint and unrecognizable
his blue eyes are gone now
and his limitlessness is over
he acts as though he owns the whole world
but he owns nothing and no one
and he never follows his heart
or his head and
his future seems irrelevant
so he'll try to heal his wounds with some poison
but all it does it keep him up at night
to let his mind stray and wander
where he won't end his suffering
and he has no self control
so he caters to his addictions
and he won't let them go
he only sees his desires
so he doesn't work for play
and drinks to be happy
and smokes to feel sane
even though he does nothing
for other people's money
like stealing and begging
he is rude to his peers
and he is rude to his elders
he has no respect for his mother
but his father's a yeller
he has horrible social skills
and never speaks correctly.
he is a know-it-all
when really he knows nothing already
but it wouldn't matter because
he wouldn't know how to share
when he's soft
he wants to be hard
when he's short
he wants to be dead
he doesn't know how to be more
because he cleans himself with dirt
and pleasures himself all day therefore
he questions his reality
and indulges being lost
he spends most of his days in bed
and condescends humanity's loss
yet he sickens himself
because he lives by himself
in his own time
in his own rules
and he feels he's better off dead
he is the center of the Universe
He is human
but he has no worth
he is a coward
and he is ill
he is selfish
and he always will
be a bedridden illness
whose lost all his hope
so with melancholy cries
his neck will tie with rope
and he'll find himself strung
for an hour or four
overcome with his ego
he's dead
he's no more
YOU ARE READING
Melancholic & Other Poems
Poetry"Melancholic and Other Poems" is a powerful debut collection by Nicholas Kyle Edwards that invites readers into a profound exploration of the complexities of mental health, particularly as experienced by adolescents. Through a strikingly unique free...
