PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I'M BECOMING CONTENT

(T. Beechey)



Sometimes I seek what time has forgotten

Already knowing I'm doomed to defeat

But all the mystique that I've been tauught in

Constantly going in circles repeats

Sometimes I recede back in my mind

To a happier place --- somewhere,somehow

There's no longer need for me to find

Any other space...at least for now



Sometimes I yell inside my head

To silence the voices living within

This place that I dwell and growing to dread

But what are my choices? Where do I begin?

Sometimes I look where eyes haven't followed

With full understanding I'm destined to fail

And all that it took time has swallowed

I end up landing on an opposite trail



I'm becoming content

For all the wrong reasons

But they do satisfy

What I'm searching for



Perhaps I'm not meant

To lavish the seasons

But I don't know why

Please tell me more



Sometimes I think a little too much

Then nothing makes sense,especially me

I feel myself shrink away from your touch

And the difference only time can see

Sometimes I roam not quite enough

Then I grow lost in solitude

I can't leave my home,there's never enough

Reason to cost the price of my mood



Sometimes I sit without any motion

Staring at walls that echo my thoughts

Deep in the pit of unbridled emotion

Time slowly falls to dashes and dots

Sometimes I lie huddled in protest

To the world awaiting my coming demise

And when I die,it'll be for the best

No sense debating,I now close my eyes



I'm becoming content

For all the wrong answers

But I've found the peace

That's eluded so long



Time cast its dissent

And now come the lancers

To bring forth release

From a life gone wrong



Sometimes I bring myself to conclusions

That shouldn't be reached by whatever means

Sometimes I sing of soulful delusions

So often preached throughout the scenes

Sometimes I cling to snap decisions

Made in haste without consequence

Sometimes I swing in between the visions

That are laid to waste in the present tense



Sometimes I take incorrect perceptions

Of the world around from my point of view

Sometimes I make selected exceptions

As I stand on ground that was walked by you

Sometimes I feel no longer able

To comprehend the slightest remark

Sometimes I kneel before the label

That,until my end,shall remain my mark