PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Many years ago, i figured that somehow,

i'd fine a way to be happy by now,

yet somehow i lost my wits in Staten,

keep telling myself i just gotta let it happen,

if i'm looking i'll only see, then grow regret,

i gotta go out there and get

what i want and allow myself to once again dream,

instead of blacking out from another Jim Beam,

if only letting go was what i did best,

i could erase all the memories and finally rest,

instead it's stress that overcomes my mentality,

looking at my life now all i ask is how'd it be-

come so overwhelming that just a small spark,

keeps me from the light, suffocating in the dark,

sleeping nights away in the park i grew up in,

cause i never knew her back then.