PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

On life, on aggression, on passive soul relations, on everyone around you,

close enough to mention.

a person, stands by a door

on the threshold of a virtual new era, his heart spoke unto him:

naked tones of difference, separate decision.

to open the door, or remain closed off,

for more time, as seconds tick by, graduating into minutes.

the hours hold so little value,

im reminded of the lack of ambition i have set foot into, but held so little regret to it,

life is a dream, gradually awakening.

I remember thinking i could not be bothered, by the needs of something normal,

but times have changed, i figure,

that by breaking down convention, harboring suspicion to that which is subtle, there seldom is a moment i dont think to be at one,

finding peace, in something normal.

like a gun:

i shoot off in the direction i'm pointed, putting end to another bullet of casualty from pity, no one understands me.

where there is doubt, my spiritual connection to writing will help,

when someone seeks to find me, at the length of my rope,

i'll be there, and they will wonder why?

Hope is a blunt tool that people stab at themselves with, hoping for the best, hoping for the sake of hope, in light of mind, is hopeless.

what to do, to fade this attraction, i wish i knew.

i have walked the roads you call unknown

i have been quiet to remain unseen, unheard

suffered for the actions of others, lonesome because

there is no other, all that i have seen, i'm tired of this way

but it's hard when breaking free, maybe it's not this complicated.

maybe?