Poetry Attempts

Silence and Back

I listen to the fan, deadpan
I hear it flutter and as I do I face the clutter
I face the clutter that fills my mind and am faced to find
That, what I do mind is not in fact rare, but everywhere
So common there that it is in fact not new, it's just that there are only a few who choose to not view this heavy truth

Pain
Is it nobler to give or to gain?
Is it better to question it's very thought or leave it all for not?
As I sit in the quiet I hear what maybe the thoughts we all see
Love
Is it better to have loved and lost or lost and never loved?
The question is not one to cause fear
We're never subjected to the answer here
But that raises whether if life continues
If faith and feeling brings life then can we really live on after death?
I shake as I let out a breath, too deep too far go back to where you are
You are not ahead to that point, these illusions of life and death are all in your head
Relax, just go to bed
No, i won't lie down and surrender because these thoughts won't let me
These thoughts surround me, they're all around me
But not just me, but you and you, they disturb and won't let us be
I know that no one knows why they're here and that this is a cause of fear
I know that I have nowhere to go, and am faced here to question what I do not know

I do not know
What I do not know is great and vast yet I am told how much knowledge I have amast
What I know
Is small in numbers yet as I get less younger I am able to see that what I know has grown and grown in size yet I feel as though I don't know
As I lay i am faced with life
Why is that happiness is a chore but pain can become a bore?
When we live in pain we struggle and fight yet we still feel unsatisfied every night
Yet happiness is hard to find and in order to surround yourself in it you have to work and work and even then it's hard to keep that state of mind
I ponder as I wonder
Why does it sound like a revelation every time we're told new information?
When did it take some genius to realize that with pain is a gain and with joy is nothing new to toy?
When did it seem new to learn this?
What person would have to learn this?
With every pain is something we earn

I listen to the fan, deadpan
I hear it flutter and as I do I face the clutter
I face the clutter that fills my mind and am faced to find
That, what I do in my mind is not in fact rare, but everywhere