Kids
Either on drugs,
Or getting a fix
Others don't even give fvck,
They cutting their wrists
They fight with they're hearts,
They rolling up their fists
Screaming for love,
- but that's the harder it gets
They dripping too hard,
They do it to flex
They give it their hearts,
-all just to impress
It's a bit overwhelming,
as they reminisce
And hiding the pain of when they were six
It all starts with mama's joyful munches on the stove
As she tries to fill the room with warm smiles,
- complimented by dry jokes
Without noticing...
Her bit of happiness sacrificed, And a lot of compassion is shown
With just that bit of hope....
- she prays her son goes to school and study to be something better than his dad before
Her fake smile seems real,
But for my happiness
- it played a role
Welcoming fake smiles...
- with a bit of love for me to cope
But felt some lack of confidence,
- because of my dad that wasn't here this morning,
when I woke
To drive my pain away...
- I'll be feeding this body with acids and grams of coke(cocaine)
They killed my father...
- so what will be the point of my life anymore?
• • • • •
The preasure on their lives,
The fragile is our kids
It's hard realise,
- that they might turn into fiends
Inspired by the art of peer pressure,
Their minds are too fragile for their emotional battlefield
Old wounds are poked and emerge but with no aim to heal
Objectified by the thing that they feel
Lost in narcotic euphoria...
- drowning in fake happiness,
Which kills
For only a few hours it'll last
- then it's back buying your glimpse of fun
- then there goes your confusion of what happy is....
Kids
Either on drugs,
Or getting a fix
Others don't even give fvck,
They cutting their wrists
They fight with they're hearts,
They rolling up their fists
Screaming for love,
- but that's the harder it gets
They dripping too hard,
They do it to flex
They give it their hearts,
-all just to impress
It's a bit overwhelming,
as they reminisce
And hiding the pain of when they were six
Passing of years,
High school is my key
Not to success,
But to the shvt that assembles me
Spotting the nerds in the hallway,
And I give them a little taste the pain that I feel
For the first six years of my life,
My dad was abusive,
- before he got killed
Making others feel pathetic,
Because my joy was stolen,
And now I have to deal...
- with this bit of jealousy,
Because your daddy's love is real
YOU ARE READING
Confusion Of Happiness
PoetryA beautiful exposure to the roughness and beautiful emotional intensity of a young boy . A cry for help, but yet a better understanding of one's feelings -- both internal and external.
