Jolly world so small and naive,
but silent quarters I crave,
anguish, agony, I ask for,
battling alone the internal war,
I don't ask for smiles and flowers,
I don't want any happy hours,
for all will end in a sinful wave,
so the lonely quarters I crave,
take me past the right and wrong,
take me where I belong.
Giggles and laughs are meant for the brave,
so the gloomy quarters I crave,
I don't fit in the careless and free,
brights and positives, not meant for me,
I don't want the merry ordinary,
dark and dreary are my glee,
for no shattered pieces to collect and save,
the dingy quarters I crave,
for there is left no tough and strong,
take me where I belong.
Let me build my misery cave,
for the self tormenting quarters I crave,
the burden, the self loathe, the frustration,
an epitome of self devastation,
the vexation, the anger,
putting the blissful bubbles in danger,
for I am a walking, talking grave,
a little, solitary tomb I crave,
begging, pleading all the song,
take me where I belong,
take me where I belong.
---------------------------------------------------------
Vote and share if you like it. Comment your views. Follow for more. Add this to your reading list or library.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of a Juvenile
PoetryWords are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hob...
