Aram Stefanian

Rookie - 179 Points (20 Nov.1950 / Yerevan, Armenia)

Bad Manners

Poem by Aram Stefanian

I'm sick and tired of your constant whys.
Hurt myself, stumbling upon an open wound.
Covering the truth for a bunch of lies,
You made it easier for us to be misunderstood.
I'm trying to find a way out of smothering ties.
The future hopes might stir up the mood.
Silence is the answer to your whispers and cries.
Just think of your goals, doing what you should.
Even if it hurts, I'm happy I'm alive:
There are a lot of simple things I do enjoy.
Vertigo ain't the reason you cannot dive.
Destiny's using you cleverly like a toy.
Embarrassed and sweating, I can't give you five:
Deep inside I am also the same little boy.
Addicted to bad manners and all that jive,
I wonder how time can both create and destroy.

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Read poems about / on: destiny, sick, future, silence, truth, happy, time, wind, hope

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Poem Edited: Sunday, October 7, 2007