Sunday, December 9, 2018


We attempt to make peace, for powers we cannot face,
We attempt to seek answers, to remain on the chase,
We attempt to hear others, though we tend to never listen,
We attempt to touch lives, only to keep our distance,

Our repetition remains intact, with no end in sight,
You cannot expect to win as you sit down to fight,
I see the battles now, the demons have made it clear,
Have you fought long enough; I am no where near,

This once wide road is beginning to narrow,
A glorious pavement condensed to a familiar gravel,
My feet absorb the beating as I face these bruises,
For only one man to win as the other man loses,

Can you see now as the story is ending?
How one man twists, ready to break when bending,
A constant struggle to please the heart of others,
Yet at the same moment shield his and take cover,

How does one come, build a world on top of her,
Just to set fire to his own, sit back and watch it burn,
This sequence repeats, until the fight in you fades,
To try one more time, to feel the burns and the blades,

Some get addicted, some give it one more attempt,
Because that's what we do, we cherish all with exempt,
If you here the cries calling, know it's the release of the heart,
Because for all we attempt, we're caused to fall apart.
Joshua Hillard
Topic(s) of this poem: pain,sad,time

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1/19/2021 1:34:34 PM #