Explain to me why I choose to live,
if my purpose is to simply receive,
what I identify as regret and disdain,
enlighten me on why I only feel pain.
Need I utilize my time and not take it for granted?
Am I just different because my perception is slanted?
Or did I sin, and proclaim you wrong?
Why does my tedious existence feel so long?
Why are the walls so plain and blank?
Could it be a subtle symbol to my inferior rank?
Is it possibly my dying dream?
Perhaps it's because I'm not what I seem.
Explicate to me why I clench my hand,
why my future doesn't appear so bland,
why I open a book to an insipid page,
why I feel hope, but I do not feel rage,
please clarify how it is possible for me,
that I can truly smile so impeccably,
and an itinerary of steps, leading so high,
for me, this reality isn't remotely a lie,
it's so simple and clear, as the ground gets hotter,
that you take out fire, by an abundance of water.
As the heat cools, and fire dies,
a herald martyr, the water dries.
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce
Poetry~ Words leak through minds, like too much ink does to paper. They spread silently like diseases and blossom like the non-existent amaranthine in spring. ~ (COVER NOT MINE) (All rights reserved) (A collection of rhyming poems. Part 2 out now) (Hig...
