His mind is insanity
Twisted into a calamity
In his eyes are a fiery hell
His body not doing well
He feels like he has no soul
Like hes just an empty bowl
Waiting to be filled
And waiting to be killed
His problems are many
And they dont come in handy
But two are the worst
They always come in first
He hears them day and night
He is constantly in fright
It's not just voices
It's not just noises
It's personalities
His life of dualities
His bowl now broken
His heart stops hoping
A brighter day
Starts to fade away
His love there is none
His life there was one
It's gone now
They're gone how?
Society got to their head
Filled it with dread
Saw him break
Saw his body shake
But what he doesnt see
Is who he's supposed to be
A man
With a plan
A healer
A revealer
A prophet
He cops it
But he should stop it
Cause he doesnt believe
That he should relieve
Himself from the pain
And the strain
He just wants to end it
His life just rend it
Useless
Fruitless
Pointless to man
Pointless to plan
So he stays broken
He just stopped hopping
His brighter day
Just went away
YOU ARE READING
book of on the spot poetry
PoetryI sometimes think in rhyme in fact it happens all the time so here is a book for the good and bad for the fun and misery I've had written on the spot to reflect and saved here to protect the sacred feelings of a person
