Looking at myself, I see how the last two years passed by
And I wonder if the same is going to happen all my fucking life.
I'll be a witness to my destruction,
and when the court asks, I'll be incarcerated for being incapacitant.
I could say that I tried but that doesn't seem to be true,
atleast I realized that they were my faults who made me who
And i wonder, is the road that I'm going down what I wanted to choose?
Maybe not, but now I'm too far to turn back and still lose.
Is my destiny designed to be doomed
And will everything I'll touch turn to ruin.
I don't know .
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
I wish I had help, but that also isn't enough
Because my mind works as it wants to, and does what it does.
To live feels like a chore,
to die feels like giving up on all hope.
But is it hope that there is inside me or my own delusions,
making me think that I can finally be free from my conclusion.
She yelled loudly in a broken sort of voice
"I can, I can, I can!"
The intensity increasing with each note
And while the Passerby told her,
"Inadequate us all that you'd ever be."
Her hands held her fragmented heart
And mended the pieces dismally.
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Lost and Found |poetry|
PoetrySometimes when you have spent a year or two sitting by yourself, and you still haven't gotten used to your own company... You start to desire a whole lot of things in your head, but the isolation has trapped you because you feel comforted by it, whi...
