How quickly, a life fades away.
Two simple spoken words, or even just an expression,
that lingers with a trace.
A momentary lack of conversation
can let thoughts roam in.
So many things
can happen on a whim.
One little rude comment,
or one laugh in someone's face.
A mockery, a scorn,
an insult or disgrace.
Done by another human,
or by someone's own mind.
The hospital beds, fill in time.
Scars on arms, and scars on legs.
We can't just think
that it's all pretend.
And 'fine' isn't fine.
It's been drilled into my mind.
There are people who see past the lies,
and no matter how many times you say you're fine
they never believe you.
Pale skin,
a committed skin.
People seem to drop like flies
and society is 'so great'
over time.
Nothing changes
and nobody noticed the pace
quickens
and generations
fall into mental manipulations.
And become victims
to problems they often can't solve.
And I miss them.
The people that have left.
And I don't know what's of them now,
but I know they're not dead.
And I think,
if they can live,
than why can't I?
So now I finish,
with this world barf unpolished.
YOU ARE READING
Nobody Was Meant to See
Poetry[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-
