Love is irrational
Hate is fake
Love don't really have an ending
But hate is in which you can find a way to its break
Love can symbolise fake
And hate discriminates fear
In a way to realise frieghts
In which are synchronized by fate
Fate which comes from warm sheets of insults
Where did my love go?
It seems that I might not be getting any
Why does it take so slow?
Because I haven't been appreciated lately
What is this though?
My feelings aren't even, shapely
When will I ever know?
That I should never let them change me
Who is this pure beautiful pot of gold?
The one I polished but she wouldn't care to even love me
My love in this land of hate
Is really tiring me
Coming from my brother
Who I thought I new better
Crack coke and pistols defines him clearer
He sees his reflection but not himself in the mirror
My thoughts resorts to that this black brother's life,
is which his don't really matter
Then these blue lights should then care better
Soaked are my clothes
--Getting wetter and wetter
My chains locked with fat fetters
Drenched clothes which I carry
Wet, but not with water
But with acrimony's liquid,
-- we are bothered
Therefore our Christmas is not merry
My thoughts then are baried
So then, where is my tooth fairy?
My soul food is junk and sweets:
The cavities are a bit overbearing
And should tell them my secrets?
But not sharing could also be caring.
But anyway they'll always still be staring
Where did my love go?
It seems that I might not be getting any
Why does it take so slow?
Because I haven't been appreciated lately
What is this though?
My feelings aren't even, shapely
When will I ever know?
That I should never let them change me
Who is this pure beautiful pot of gold?
The one I polished but she wouldn't care to even love me
My love in this land of hate
Is really tiring me
My fears ruins me my dear
My faith is ruled by my peers
Drinking down my belief in God with a light beer
The proud atheists are always giving me cheers
But deep inside I'll always ask the almighty to wipe my tears
Hoping all my prayers he hears
I was faithful to the ones that believe in their self for years
For others amusement I won't let my parent's(God) heart tear.
Toxic unecessities hits my media with a spark
All of God's children surrends themselves to the dark
Injection of needles,
Drugs filled with fake happiness fiddles,
And galavanting inside their fragile veins like a beetle
Each and every one of them needs to find a way back to her heart
Millions still thriving against her art
The rain might be hitting a round two,
So let me start,
Getting my materials and tools and building my Botho's ark.
But this time, the flood won't be from God
The liquid of self doubt and will drown us all
Freezes us, and taking our joy.
And with freezing weather adds to the cold
But hear this if you haven't been told
To the ones that kept faith in him,
The frozen liquids defrost
By the fire he'll send,
Using it to whip the ones who had pretend,
That he's presence wasn't here
And to this day I see everyone in fear
Overwhelmed and begging the Mother for forgiveness with sheds of tears
Bleeding eyes, red tears my dear
But with the almighty there's nothing to fear.
Where did my love go?
It seems that I might not be getting any
Why does it take so slow?
Because I haven't been appreciated lately
What is this though?
My feelings aren't even, shapely
When will I ever know?
That I should never let them change me
Who is this pure beautiful pot of gold?
The one I polished but she wouldn't care to even love me
My love in this land of hate
Is really tiring me
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.
