PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Red marker crosses out the days i'm wasting away,
feel better through text since i have nothing to say,
except i'm not mad just hurt i had to witness,
what i thought of highly immediately switches,

call the bartender over and ask him for another,
look to my left, not surprised to see my brother,
i feel fine but the same doesn't go with you,
if you drank from the punch then i'd die too,

cause if i don't know then i don't know,
not my fault i lack sunlight so i don't grow,
still stuck on the past, not letting it go,
not looking down cause i fear falling below,

already lowered myself away from anything real,
so whats the point in writing out how i feel?
is anybody there? does anyone even care?
life is losing it's truth and overbalancing towards dare.