Old Teenage Poems Poems

Where we cut the strings
the ends of my ropes
are still soar
I feel phantom pain
...

We Are Not
the Kings of the World
not the masters
of each and every horizon
...

Like bones from the sceletons
in our closets,
in our throats
we're choaking
...

Inside our echoing emotions
Abolished is the painful devotion
On and on you do this, smiling
When step by step I know that I'm dying
...

Aren't we all
in the bottoms of our hearts
still waiting to fall
...

As though society
had reveiled itself, naked
-to let us disect it
exhibit its particles of truth
...

and we blamed the world surrounding
Us

because They chose the victims
...

We can smile
We can really
Smile
...

Trying to find
our equilibrium selves
-we got lost in the making
...

And how can it be
that it is the measurements that clone us
by each other
-makes us all copies of the ideal
...