PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You wouldn't know it by looking,

It isn't something you merely see.

You just wouldn't be able to to tell

something is wrong with me....

                                                                                   (I'm)

starting to think that inside I am broken,

like that car you can never get running.

It's as if every one knows the punchline.

I'm left looking weird for laughing

                                                                                   (broken)ly

At some silent but ever present joke, me.

I'm the elephant in the room that no one "notices"

Standing there awkwardly as they all don't look.

Like I should stand there like a lamp, Lifeless

                                                                                   (inside)

my own body pretending that I'm okay.

But its not okay and neither am I.

When life hands me onions not lemons,

and makes me want to constantly cry.

                                                                                     (And)

sometimes I just wish I could give up.

But then I start thinking about those I love.

How would they feel about this? How do I?

But I am way past that. I am above......

                                                                                     (beyond)

caring what anyone thinks about me.

I'm a worthless person who shouldn't be alive.

The only thing that keeps me sane is this, Poetry!

Without it my life is in a constant nosedive.

                                                                                    (The)

world seems like its  turning its back on me.

as if I'm an idiot and they're uttering a silent "Duh"

as if they are trying to find a way to get through

to me. Trying too desperately to make a

                                                                                    (point)

But sadly it will never work because I'm hopeless.

Maybe thats why my parents smoke and drink

maybe thats why my brother seems to hate me,

and the other steals. I'm just trying to think

                                                                                     (of)

A reason that sometimes we're just a mess.

Always giving into this evil, something to feed

on besides our tears and constant sorrow

Then other times I'm not sure we even need

                                                                                    (Fixing.)