PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Its only wishful thinking
when every day remains as is.

Nothing ever changes,
nothing ever will.

This coldness seeps so deep
that not even a blanket over my soul
could warm me now.

This alone-ness is so damn loud
in this utter and deafening silence,
that my sobs only echo back.

I've tried in every way I know,
yet all I do is tainted by failure,
marred by imperfections.

My faults are highlighted in blood red.
Oh, how they love to touch upon
that which breaks me down.

Everything I do is subject to ridicule,
subject to the hurling words of pain,
and I stand alone in their path.

I'm given no encouragement to fight,
only put down and put aside
as blindly, they turn away.

How can one be victorious
when one is all there is?

When there's no one who has your back?

Oh, they are there, at my back-
but only behind me
to stab me as I turn.

And how such wounds hurt deeper
than all pains inflicted, combined.

How jaggedly, they scar.

Were I to be gone today, now,
gone from here forever,
they wouldn't even see my departing shadow

as I left.

I'd be a mere memory of
one who passed through,
hardly noticed and only in their way.

They'd only miss what I did for them-

and not who I was.

Leaving life now,
would be so peaceful,
so timely and so desperatly needed.

Its only wishful thinking
when every day remains as is.

Nothing ever changes,
nothing ever will.