Poems of Me

It Gets Better

27/3/14

When I was younger an older person once spoke to me

Wise words, saying it's okay

But it's not okay, you only ever know who you are based on your actions

Never the feelings, never the rights

But all the wrong is highlighted

And your world is suddenly crashing down around you

And you don't know what to do until it's just ash and broken glass at your feet

And these demons in your head you can't defeat

But you'll try and you'll try to get back on your feet

And then they'll go ahead and

Say it gets better

But what's the use of better without a little torture and pain to go along with it?

What's the use of loving if you don't know what you have until you've lost it?

It's like a narcissistic bubble of hatred and rage burning inside you

Trying to turn you into a basket case

Of emotion with what it's done to you

What's the difference between being mentally ill and just insane?

And what is the reason for me not feeling my pain again?

Why don't I know myself like you do?

Why can't I feel in control?

Well little one, I'm older now so show me your woe

I'll tell you three words truth

It get's better

So much better for you

Believe me, I beg, it does

Live it with a smile.

I ask you of that, only that.