If there's no chance for my hopes and dreams, maybe I should advance my death.
It's so tiring having my wants and needs always being unmet.
I thought a good character and proper morals could make me one day wealthy.
But all this hard work didn't yield to my dreams coming true, it just made me empty.
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I used to huff at a person who sold off their soul.
Now I somehow understand that it's what they felt that could make them whole.
Ironically, this makes them hallowed out because the world has eaten them away.
It's hard for underprivileged poor people to achieve anything without sacrifices along the way.
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Another irony is that people with loose morals have a better life than me.
Why am I even working hard to do good when being evil is more free?
You hold the universe in your hands, how come my life is nowhere near fine?
Was I wrong to think that I'm one of yours, and that you are mine?
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People who barely know you are blessed, favored with convenience from left to right.
While I'm left alone to wallow in despair, suffering and extreme fright.
Am I insignificant to be cared for by you?
Are your promises only applied to a select few?
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I wish I was loved enough to be blessed with nice things.
But I'm only poked with fiery envy on my chest and it stings.
Lord, I don't have anything - I thought you would fill me!
But I've become worse - half empty but half full of acrimony.
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Copyright
Star Ashley Cruz
Feb. 2, 2025
YOU ARE READING
R.I.P. (Radical. Immortal. Poetry.)
PoesíaI live and I will die but my words soar high written in skies of paper, allowed me to live forever. - Snippets of my soul in a piece of paper. R.I.P. originally stands for "Rest in peace." Coincidentally, I find that peace upon writing poetry and p...
