PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There is nothing wrong

With staying in your own race,

Diversity is a beautiful thing 

To the mind that seeks creativity

And seeks understanding,

The mind that values each human being

And individual right.

The person who has reached 

The point of acceptance 

That we are the same 

And yet we are different

Both at the same time,

Until we no longer exist in a physical body,

And leave this level of existence.

The person who has learned what truth truly is.

The person who sees beauty in all things.

.....

I found a girl, and saw her perspective
Silent, yet surprisingly reflective
They claimed she was away, entirely defective

But I knew otherwise just from the look in her eyes
I saw through the silent, and closed off disguise

And from there, I saw the immediate connection
Completely dissected, but still searches for true affection

Her warm, yet crooked emotion
A calmed, yet broken devotion

Silent, but struggling for her sound
and yet, still not a face found

Her skin torn, gone and rotten.
Her mouth stolen, words lost, ignored and forgotten.

She was exposed to all of the morbid things
Corrupted lies, and uneven broken wings

All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew

And she left sudden, without a word,
Her existence she seen was too blurred

Before I could realize, she was gone and done
Did you ever wonder what life can become?

All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew..

I walk endless an road

locked into a heavy load

Of these questions and fears

Gripping from it's unreasonable tears

As a car roars by

I look dead into it's light

Wondering where it leads

But just like that it's gone

just like another day

As I wake up to the sun's harsh light

I try not to look back

As I attempt to fill this crack

Of this hurt and wonder

Unstoppable, a storm of rain and thunder

As a car roars by

I look dead into it's light

Wondering where it leads

But just like that it's gone

just like another night

As I stay up to the moon's hypnotic might

I feel like every single thing is like a mind game,  played and laid out for me

I can't feel a single thing, like I'm not blind, but I still can't see

What is it really? Perhaps it's not that important?

Tell me what it is, or is it just my own comportment?

I have walked in the very things I've looked down upon

What I once thought was selfish, now I too am wrong

and now there is blood all over my hand

But I have no idea why, I just don't understand

This is a complication called the human mind

Irony, double standards, hypocrisy, A place to be so blind

To wallow and loop in this thick puddle of shame

For the mistakes commited, I fairly wore the blame

Knowing is the beginning is something I suppose

It's better to learn, rather than to find it to oppose.

So I guess I'll take my feelings and throw them to the floor

I'll leave you where you originally were, trapped inside a closed door

And you can echo your goodbyes

as you embrace yourself to the ink of sheer ignorance and sighs..

Bound by the cities

Bound by another one's pity's

Expect a place to be

Or expect not want to be seen

And I'll take you as walking money

I see you as a pretty big funny

We and I, all have found our place

And you my dear, have barely found a face

Bound to me, and to my briefcase

I'll lend you a smile, but you're a secret disgrace

Find the comfort in another's eyes

But in reality, another girl will have them hooked on their clever disguise

Find a place to be

Or expect not want to be seen

Stuck in a rut

With no qualities, not knowing what

Who are you and what are you in this city?

Gone and withdrawn, alone and all shitty?

Expect a place to see

Or expect us to be mean

For you are bound

What goes around, comes around

You are stuck here, forever with me

With no voice, or founding plea

For you are bound

My slave, to paint my sacred ground

Tell me, is it ever really "Okay?"

At times I wish I could disappear, away from the day.

Tell me, was it really all a mystery?

Or was I really something plagued by history?

Judge me, try to reason my scars,

Yet, were you there for  my unreasonable wars?

Did you ever set foot in my shoes?

Taken account of what brings the blues?

Tell me, does it really matter?

If I was any more the sadder?

Perhaps it's just my business, only my trouble.

Not another place to intrude into my bubble.

I'll solve my self alone, and myself alone only

Not for you to break my silence, maybe tonight, I'd just like to be lonely.

Blame my shortcomings for my scars if you dare.

For me, it just occurred, the past isn't something I ever chose to wear.

.

In the end,

you will swear

I had ill intent,

but you could not be farther 

from the truth.

It is just how I am,

the world is my dartboard,

and I,

the haggard soul

who sits at the end of the bar

who you would expect to reek

of alcohol and stale tobacco.

but instead,

you just pass by

not even bothering to take a whiff,

disgusted by what you've created of me,

too insecure and empty inside 

to hold a notion of manifesting

something beautiful

through the likes of me,

and yet,

I could give you the world

on a platter.

things are predestined 

because that is how you've made them,

so I aim to please,

as the bets have been placed

and are always in my favor...

you know...?

but in the end you will

say I had ill intent,

that I have no 

"scruples",

and I will smile.

love,

fate.

.

Fearing for the breath I've wasted,

partnerships I've complicated,

feelings spoken, understated,

notes that had been mistranslated;

I thought it best to rein by choice

the strident mewling of my voice

and after which I could rejoice,

as those I'd lost returned to me.

Like waves colliding with the shore,

my words will light upon their door

and press themselves against the floor

to pass beneath and beg, implore

their presence to return to mine.