PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I sit quietly in my room,

wanting nothing more then to scream.

I sit with so much anger inside me.

I stand up off the floor

and stare into the mirror.

I see a girl with two faces

and feels exactly what she feels.

I see a side where she is scared to move,

scared to see what is right in front of her,

scared to hear anyone even around.

She fears the thought of being wrong,

so she keeps what she thinks is right to herself.

She fears confrontation,

so she always agrees and trys to be

never doubting and ever trusting.

I also see her other side, with anger and hate for all.

No one seems imporant, but the other side of her.

She feels the urge to move around and never trys to be still.

She wants to know what to know whats ahead of her

and who will be in her way. She feeds off others pain and sorrows and doesn't care if she caused them.

She knows not how to be wrong,

she only knows her way.

Her eyes in these feelings give off a look of evil

and looks like she's ready to kill.

You'd think these girls had never met,

but they are eachothers best friend.

I could stare at them all day but it hurts to see them.

I lay in my bed until I feel frustrated

and all my anger builds up.

My music is loud enough to where you can hear it

on the other side of my house.

I finally get out of bed and stare at a statue of God

and wonder why my prayers aren't imporant enough

for at least a little strength.

At times I feel no love and no importance.

I feel i'am a waste of space, dead or alive.

I know I'll miss some people

and maybe they'll miss me,

but what scares me is if no one cares.

What brings me pleasure is knowing

they will feel sorry when i'm gone.

But until I get that angry all my pleasures

and my fears will be a call for help with

the writings on the wall.