Trying to conform to society's ideals has brought me to my death bed
Believing that life has gotten better was careless of me
These obstacles have made themselves at home
Not giving me a peace of mind
Or leaving me alone
Who knew that I would put my pen to paper once again to record my fragile moment.
While my pens and papers picked up dust,
My grandmother's legs have started to let go
While my pens and papers picked up dust,
I have found myself on the verge on homelessness
And while my pens and papers picked up dust,
So has my relationship with my friends
Life has brought me in a neverending cycle of relief and torment
If only I had the strength to leave this circle.
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Update:
As some of you guys can tell, I haven't published anything in a very long time. This is mostly because I've been in a better mood lately and truthfully, I don't write much or get any inspiration to write when I'm having a better handle on my life.
While a lot of shit has happened that even I consider quite fucked up and extreme, weirdly enough, I didn't feel the need to express those fucked up moments into my writing and stuff to cope with it.
Lately I've been planning of putting another book out here, but it's just me ranting or some shit, but who tf cares? Lmao
So who knows, maybe I'll do it or maybe I won't, but don't expect much updates in this random poetry book shit that I made here.
YOU ARE READING
Tears Of A Confused Soul // Poems
PoesiaI don't speak for you, I don't speak of societal truths I speak for myself, I speak of my truths My heart is mine. My Poems. not much to it. No specific genre, just my mood in that moment and time. Since it has to do with my moods, I may not post...
