Taking Its Toll Poem by Alex Mercado

Taking Its Toll

Rating: 2.8


Everyday I wake up to a storm of torment.
An air raid siren cry that pierces and augments.
My, suicidal tendencies as if they weren't enough.
I'm just that 'nobody' with a soul that's morphine cuffed.
Mother, I wish you could live my world like I do.
Walking on these razor blades,
But only lies can cut through.
My, dark gray skin,
Blends in like a silhouette,
A shadow I cannot forget,
A sculpted vision to regret.
I'm nice to the world that's quick to spit the fire,
That's why Karma's up at night putting my heart through barbed wire.
See, but that's just how it works.
A broken record act always turning into curse.
Now it's time for a nail in the coffin,
More like a bullet through the skull,
To get the spirits talking. A prolific author of my story,
Playing God,
I'd have foreseen.
But when you read my final chapter,
It says I'm dead at sixteen.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
People ask me, 'why are your poems so depressing? ' My answer to that is that I write things as an escape to the real world problems. I'm not a bad person. There are many people who find other portals to escape depression. My portal is my writing.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gajanan Mishra 19 July 2013

walking on razor blades, hard-life. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.

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