I actually have a problem that breathes,
You see the Sky's not dark when its early,
But when the nights done light comes and leaves.
The change is consistent but i cant cope and die as surely.
It breathes for when the wind comes it lives,
And i wait but cant compensate for a fake existence,
Knowing the answer is simple, the truth lies in grids.
I will not dance in rain in any instance.
My heart never beats and I'm cold to the touch,
I'm walking weakly and the sky is bleakly instated,
For my part i stand alone, God is gone is religion seems to be my crutch.
So i guess i failed at expiring at the right time dated.
Fuck your life and the high horse you came in on,
Ive been through too much too loose absently,
Death is obsolete I've waited too long and became too strong.
The Devil will look up at me so admirably.
The angel of life...
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This isn't how I remembered it at all. It's very weird...unless I was thinking of another one which is very possible with the muber you read to me all at once.
ReplyDeleteNonetheless, I love it right from the opening line. Just the way you show how the problem is alive...active. Throughout the poem I am left feeling the burden of this problem and teh way it is slowly killing you. I feel failure and lonliness. I like that it ends with a fight...that you will never give up or take thsi laying down kinda attitude.