PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

This is the culmination of many wasted words

Of many broken promises, and of many scarred feelings.



So here I sit begging that you will reach into

You?re back pocket, pull out my heart

And return what is mine.



Because I want to feel, I miss the anger and sadness and the joy.



I am tired of being hollow inside so I ache

And I know not how it is possible

Because I cannot feel the pain, I just know where it resides

I remember the feeling of dismay,

The indescribable misery of it all

And yet those are the only feelings I am able to recollect.



HERE I SIT CASTING ASIDE SOCIETY?S STEREOTYPICAL DEFINITION OF A MAN?

HERE I SIT ALONE?

HERE I SIT IN TEARS?

BEGGING THAT YOU RETURN MY HEART.



For you have had it in your possession all this time

And I did not mind placing it in your kindred hands but I fear I have

Made a mistake.



You see I thought

We were exchanging gifts, and yet I sit here alone

Pondering the worthlessness of existence, and I reach into

My pocket in search of a trinket that will remind me there

Is compassion to be found, to pull me out of

This exiling depression, and yet my hand exits empty,

Leaving behind nothing except for a piece of lint and some

Spare coins.



So if indeed a transaction was

Made why do you posses my soul, my very being, and hear I sit with nothing.



Nothing to assist me in deciding upon a course of action to navigate

Myself out of this state of inevitable self-destruction.



My heart is not an accessory to elevate your self-perception with,

So I am begging return a sense of life to my soul.



Reinvigorate me with the ability to feel, to compose, and to live.



I desire contact with my own inner turmoil,

One on one, I must contemplate with my inner self the turmoil of my soul

The turmoil that makes me know pain, and seek compassion.



That makes me know lies, and seek truth.



That makes me know evil, and search for the good, the reality

Which I know people are capable of displaying.



So here I sit crushed, hurt

And I will continue to wallow, until you return what is mine.



So please, can I have it back?