my ears ring in the face of what my actions entail
the beat of my heart follows the strum of the strings
setting the pace for what my life means
locked up in my room every day
writhing in the light like worms at the end of a storm
facing the music feels like holding the dam
probability is just a fancy way of trying to predict fate
and nothing ever happens to those that ask for it
its been months since ive felt my soul rise above
and even now i can feel the tether so strongly
i dont know if its real to say things are predetermined
but deterministically it feels bad to say it's dumb luck
feel my pain and my hands shake at the sheer cold
let my eyes pierce you and investigate till im through
because no amount of time would leave me satisfied to live
we are specks in what could be and what will never be
its nothing but an exercise what makes you scared
every moment i spend is in fear of ruining everything i have
and everything i have is nothing to those that are material
remand the sentencing of a poor boy chosen by fate
the tears are not why i take pity on the souls
the hearts being ripped from their chests concerns me
taking their form like a thief that does not care about stealth
and using it for unrequited gains
it's painful to be able to do nothing.
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 2 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife
