PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I feel like every single thing is like a mind game,  played and laid out for me

I can't feel a single thing, like I'm not blind, but I still can't see

What is it really? Perhaps it's not that important?

Tell me what it is, or is it just my own comportment?

I have walked in the very things I've looked down upon

What I once thought was selfish, now I too am wrong

and now there is blood all over my hand

But I have no idea why, I just don't understand

This is a complication called the human mind

Irony, double standards, hypocrisy, A place to be so blind

To wallow and loop in this thick puddle of shame

For the mistakes commited, I fairly wore the blame

Knowing is the beginning is something I suppose

It's better to learn, rather than to find it to oppose.

So I guess I'll take my feelings and throw them to the floor

I'll leave you where you originally were, trapped inside a closed door

And you can echo your goodbyes

as you embrace yourself to the ink of sheer ignorance and sighs..

I have an unknown friend, who lives in the sky

Why I question him, I do not know why

I should not go to look for him, they say

But I know he'll want to look for me someday

I wonder, I ponder, even as I sleep

I dare not awake, for I have gone too deep

But again, the sun calls to another abrupt wake

Alone again, to find an answer for my sake

I take another step foward, for this I will fight

Forever wrapped in this question, how it echoes through the burning light

A face crumbles to the floor

and the question grows
No trace to find the locked door
Within it's secrets, trapped
and soon I will become the silence
Still without an identity mapped

and soon I will become the faceless shadow
Fast to soon slip away
With the colors gone and hollow
To bathe within the crumbles from my face
and the answer departs
Leading to nothing but empty space.

Forever to climb a mountain, a mountain called past 

I know how you feel
Like being ripped apart
Lying on the rack
Two different answers
Two different ways
Two different lives
And I won’t give you the right answer
Because I’m one of them
But, this is your life
Are you who you want to be?
Which way does God want for you?
Which answer do you really want?

This is your decision
But even if you don’t choose me
Know this:
I’ve got your back
I am with you
I won’t leave you
I’ll catch you when you fall
I’ll rejoice when you fly
And be there when you cry
Even though I may want to die
I’ll smile for you, hidden tears in my eye

Yet, should you choose me,
I’ll never love another
I won’t be concerned with me but each other
You’ll never have to run
You’ll never have to fear
I’ll love you till my dying day
Even when memory fades away
God and us, love never ending
You’ll always be cared for, loved from the heart
And you’ll never have to look for love somewhere else

Is this how I should feel?
Broken.
Bruised.
No real ties.
Reckless.
Footloose.
A mess with no real path.
Is this God after a cruel laugh?
My reputation
Considered a rebel.
Did I damn myself
Make a Deal with the Devil?

BULLSHIT

Scared of whom I have become
No clue how I got here,
where it all begun?
Desperate for love,
never found it.
Bleeding out
Roll over
Drown in it.
Looking for answers
No tears left to cry
All that's left;
Spread my wings and fly.
Or do I give up?
Bleed out and die.

Now I was asked to write a poem
That is one about me
Very simply about who I am
The things I like to do
But I told her that I don’t
Rightly believe I can
Who am I?
That is a deep question
Which I will shallowly answer
I first and foremost,
Enjoy writing poetry
Just like this one
And I have never given
A second poem the same
Title as a fist poem
They are all different
Just like people
Other than that, I like music
Mostly rock and country
But I will listen to the others
If they have good beat and rhythm
And I can understand them
I have always been one to say
Fuck everyone else’s opinions
What they think doesn’t really
Bother me too much
But I always have been one
Who loves way too much
That is why most of my
Poetry tends to be about that
I have never been one to
Make friends with females
But you have done it
You have a friend in me
And that is all I can say
Perhaps later I will think
Of something else
And quite possibly,
I will write a poem about it
But until then, I bid you adieu

~Chrystal
Written on
October 20, 2011