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Why
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Poems
I always wanted to be on the inside,
But when I got there I just wanted to hide.
From my own selfishness, come into play.
You can look back at all the things you would throw away.
To be one in the inside, never knowing
What you were giving up being on the outside,
Or you could look to those who were on the inside,
Those who never looked back, while my heart was slowing
Those who saw me dieing, my fate a rather short ride.
To remain in their places, slaves to their own faces...
Great poem here, Zach. (But then again, you know I've always liked your stuff.) I read through them all, but this one struck me the most. GReat flow, the words really flow between deciding whether they want to rhyme or just be free... there's still a little chaos left in you after all these years! You're right, my friend, it does sound like high school poetry, but isn't that where the best poems usually come from? Better post more..... or else!