What have I done to myself?
How has this come to be?
Who’s dumb enough to form these expectations?
Let’s consider all I failed to see…
My nature is too separate and seclude,
The cynic keeps everyone away
So once I let you slip into the chaotic mess of my mind
Insanity was bound to come creeping my way…
So once my pessimism decided to come back into town,
Nobody was any less surprised than me
But the rate at which your nature seemed to change was unsettling
Though in reality, that’s how it always seems to be…
I once clung to your every word,
The optimistic wisdom of which you speak
Now those words affix themselves in my brain, infecting me,
Systematically making me weak
I once listened to your encouragement,
The hopes and dreams you tried to instill
Now those hopes resonate like empty promises
A bucket of which now collects the acidic dreams that you caused me to spill…
I once admired the caring, compassionate voice,
The sound that made me feel
Now that voice haunts and torments with an overbearing presence
With its constant pounding, how is one supposed to deal?
I once entertained a wild, crazy thought,
The one that claimed you actually try and care
Now that thought burns with resentment against myself
As I once again forgot that I was beyond anyone’s repair
The fundamental differences are what separate our realities,
So in the end, I don’t know where my anger is suppose to be
Do I put it where it rightfully belongs, or do I decide on it selfishly?
Overall, does the problem lie within you, or them, or me…
So for English we had to write a poem and I figured I’d actually try. However, I’m no poet, so the result is…iffy to say the least.
The rain is tapping at my window,
The wind is trying to creep in.
The flash of white invades contently,
Leaving thunder to commit its sin.
The water pings and pangs to be heard,
The gusts are howling for some attention.
The bolt strikes a tree in hopes to be seen,
But no thunder, did I forget to mention?
The droplets weep from up above,
The breeze slowly crawls away.
Did lightning vanish with the clouds?
I wonder who is left to stay?
The drizzle tumbles to the ground,
Why’s the sky so calm and still?
Did the air commit its final crime?
Who’s to question nature’s will?
Wet, cold grass lay motionless and silent.
Nothing left to tousle the trees.
Is there anything to light this darkness?
I guess there’s no one left but me…
