I'm shrouded in a cloak on my own fear
Crowded by the voices I hate to hear
Surrounded by the memories we share
Pounded by the waves as I beg for air
Smiling but bleeding
Scared but leading
Breathing but dying
Laughing but lying
I am a living contradiction
The facts are only fiction
My mask never shows the cracks
My heart has turned to black
A pattern amongst the lost
A mind against the frost
An ice beginning to form
On a heart that is no longer warm
My emotion is reached its peak
A loss of words I cannot speak
To lose what is not mine
It's to die an innocent crime
Choices made unaware
Voices that only tear
Noises drown out the cries
Poison finally ends his life
My sonnet is not of death
But merely pain put to rest
But if death is the only means
The product will then be seen
YOU ARE READING
A Constant Poets Thoughts
PoetryI am constantly thinking poetically and finding meaning in the menial. I figured letting others read how I think might give insight to the world behind our own. Enjoy.
