TW- suicidal talk
Night is a peaceful time A self reflection of my flaws Memories of mistakes Urges to be accepted A small and cold place Echoes of the old Screams in my face Self loathing in the heart Hating from the start An end to the madness I’m put in my place Stay quiet till the morning Don’t save the date Distance yourself from other Spit in my face Fuck all the joy Accept all the hate Who hates me the most Has to be my fate Kill yourself tonight Says the ghost of this space I’m the ghost of the past Such a waste of space
You are my light and my joy My world revolves around the axis of your heart You are the reason I wake up and why I’m so eager to sleep My reason to better myself is you, your soul is deep The world resents your creation and talent But I stand by you with my motivation Your beauty and swift tongue are things of ultimate creation When the world hates you I hate the world They don’t understand our divine orientation If you cry I cry with you because.. Every tear you shed sparks a fire in my chest
All that glitters is not gold I used to believe everything had its own value The dirt, the sky, people around But after many lonely night with nothing to fight but myself I have come to realize Gold doesn’t glitter and neither does the light in my eyes If you could even call it a light to begin with A feint sheen that reviles nothing But an empty chasm without hope So no all that glitters is not gold But the gold we speak of has no shine to me either
I’m always near but never in the group Seeing all but not participating I would join if someone let me But since no one will I’ll just stay here In the corner is where I find the most peace A wall to lean on with a nice crease Let me in or keep me out Let me know when I can come out But while I wait I’ll be right here A fly on the wall that’s always near
When he died and how are yet to be seen But we know who did it he didn’t leave the scene Why he did it we will never know The body wasn’t mangled but left quite a show I’ve seen worse in my day but this ones special Why Because it was me who left the spectacle The light sets on the play as we start a new day Except I’m not in it cause I was the one who was slayed
I want to be free I want to see freedom with these chained eyes My body moves toward the labor but my mind wonders It drifts up to the sky The birds are free unlike me but they were born with wings And I was born with speech My mind speaks of freedom while my bones stay silent A crashing stream of influxtion I work now but soon My body may be set free
That light at the end of the tunnel People love to go on and on about that damn light I’ve seen many tunnels in my short life But never any light Is it real, do I keep chasing so imaginary light Or do I give up on finishing and set camp for the night I’ve achieved goals but they never end in light Only more tunnel follow by more night Is there a light at the end of the tunnel Or is it in our imagination But giving up would lead to fright
Why must I think a poem has to rhyme for it to be good Why do I write so dark when I’m in the sunlight Why can’t I be like the others around me Enjoying every second of life without a care I want to do this but I can’t I tell them I’m ok but inside the light is going out Out of its way to strangle my last bit of happiness Why can’t I rhyme and be happy Why can’t I say what’s I feel My life is full of nothing except for Why. Why. Why…
