Here I Sit

Writing these thoughts in my head.

Hoping that they will resolve themselves through this lead.

From the pencil that I write, unable to erase anything that is inside.

Just spellin mistakes but they come as time goes.

Watching things take shape as my poetry flows.



I never knew what things could have been.

I never know why I never did seen.

The future ahead of me and left the past where it was.

Not wanting to look ahead nor behind.

Always having to walk with the blind.

Don't want to see the future.

To focused on the past and current.

Watching it take me away, making me something that I'm not.

Watching my soul an corpse begin to rot.



A shell is what I begin holding all the emotions that I can.

I never know where to look for help.

I never know where to turn when I seek it.

The ideas from my head rip me apart from the inside.

They tormented thoughts are only here to join the ride.



Here I sit looking down at the blank paper.

Never knowing which voice in my head to trust as they most seem lower than a whisper.

Do I, or should I leave it.

Would I or don't I believe it.



- Shane Diamond -

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Essence Scott's picture

nice..you should read stream of consciousness 1 on my portfolios main page