Why can't that be me.
Sitting there catching dreams.
One after another.
A place to rest my head.
A place to take cover.
Tired of fighting for the hopeless.
Thoughts of giving up.
Maybe its time for a change.
One where I wouldn't have to rearrange.
Or leave everything behind.
All I left I have is mind.
My one last escape.
My one last embrace.
A man who can't even love himself.
Satans son couldn't be so easily out done.
Look at what I have become.
A creature of loneliness.
A creature of darkness.
Why do falling stars have to fall so hard?
Why does it have to hurt so much?
Pins and needles down to the touch.
Grabbing a hold of that crutch.
Trying so hard to stand straight up.
But I just can't.
I can't even pretend to keep up.
The strength is no longer in me.
Fighting back but it is not mattering.
Beat and staggering.
Getting dizzy, so woozy.
Sick to the stomach.
This is not me.
This is somebody else.
It can't be.
Does anyone even hear me?
Everything is going black.
Sight failing.
What is next.
I'm so helpless.
I have nothing left.
Not another confession.
That's just a distraction of the eternal pain.
It won't simply go away.
It is almost welcoming and inviting.
A twisted sensation, is better then feeling nothing.
Nothing at all.
And to think it came right after that fall.
If bird thinks it not a bird, i am sure that bird will never able to fly...trust yourself, you do have strength and even we dont, recreate ourselves, rebrand our life..you will see that you are beyond than what you are thinking now_Soul
Hmmmm, interesting original poem thru everything it all came right after that fall...The build up thru the poem wasexcellent...regards
creature of loneliness, good one, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dear Poet ABH, you describes a part of the sorrows of our souls. Only part because it has more. Then, you Poet, are not alone in that darkness.