PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Why can't I ever get on board,

Instead of watching the world move around me?



Stuck in the middle,

Looking in through the windows.



It seems like life’s moving on,

Yet I’m stuck in the sidelines.



Watching my friends all fall in love,

Having their picture perfect life’s,

While I’m the fuckup left on the side.



All their stories of life and happiness,

Mine of death and gloom.

All the mistakes I’ve made.



Destined myself to be left alone.

They all claim to care,

But who could really give a shit about me.



Would anyone care if I ceased to exist?

Sure there would be the initial shock,

But once that wore off,

Who would honestly remember?



Who would know I ever was.

And what does that say about the life I lead?



My life is stained red,

And no one wants a mess on their hands.



I grasp desperately for hands,

But none are ever there.



Slowly being dragged below,

A needle to a vein,

Maybe I should help the process along.



Give into it all,

Destroy my life piece by piece.



Forget using my mind,

It’s wasted away.



Wasting 45,000 bucks a year for what?



Rather get drunk, blazed, and high of the latest drug.

Well maybe I don’t,

But it's more appealing each and every day.



Better then destroying my life with sex.

Who knows what’s wrong with me now,

Could already be dying and not even know it.



Perhaps all this pain is just to mask the truth,

I've already killed myself,

And am simply a timer,

Ready to expire.



But even worse,

Perhaps is only,

That not only is it a possibility,

But rather,

I'm not very upset if that’s what the future holds.