PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My existance brought into question,

the endless contemplation

in the back of my mind.

I feel like these hands

were meant to do good.

But I've always thought

that I would die young.

Every day, these thoughts of darkness

take over my mind.

It's the reason why I need

these bottles of pills.

The pills they numb the fear

of the contemplations.

I don't want to know.

I never did.

I'm not healthy

and have done nothing to heal.

I write to do good,

I sing to forget.

I take care of my children.

I fear for their lives,

if I were to leave.

Do people know they're dying?

When they've never been told they were?

Or is my mind just a jumble

of pieces of puzzles,

that cannot be completed by contemplation?

I will do my best,

while I am un-understanding.

I'll continue to fear in silence,

and control the pain.

It isn't death I fear,

it is the age in which it will happen.

It isn't the results I fear,

only the contemplations.