Alone
Alone, completely shut off from the world I sit. No matter where I turn it seems there is just another bare wall keeping me away from it all. With nothing to do I stare, think, sit, and wonder. Why can't I seem to get out, to break free from the confinement of my cage. Constantly alone not really feeling at home, I surround myself with illusions. No one seems to see beyond the surface, beyond the front to what is really there. Even if they could, would they truly care? Does what you see always equal what you get; where does one draw the line between the truth and illusion? Confused I sit, consumed by guilt I hate what I think but I can't seem to quit and make it all just go away. What would they think if they knew, how would they react if they could just see underneath....One second goes by and my mind explodes, tossing out thoughts left and right. Questions of why and how tend to come and fade without warning, does that mean I have no control? Have I in fact set myself up for a fall? Only time can tell but how can one wait when each passing second is sometimes torture and other times slightly enjoyable. The lids keep the water back but how long can that last? Wanting to be something anything else for at least you wouldn't be alone, Wanting a chance to drop it all and just be enough no more no less. The world is a stage were a show is demanded, once the curtains go down you don't exist you become alone. On display you dance and put on your show keeping everyone unaware; alone you fight it all back and keep it covered never to be seen. Not wanting to be alone I fight to get out but all attempts seem to fail so still I sit alone completely shut off from the world.
I don't really know how to say everything I feel at the moment and I don't really wanna try, not like anyone really wants to hear anyway. The poem may not make sense but I never claimed to be a poet and I don't ever think I will. If you do like the poem just click the "x" in the upper right hand corner of the page and your problem is solved simple as that. I wouldn't say I'm depressed but I wouldn't say I'm extermely chipper at the moment either but it's a way of life I suppose
I don't really know how to say everything I feel at the moment and I don't really wanna try, not like anyone really wants to hear anyway. The poem may not make sense but I never claimed to be a poet and I don't ever think I will. If you do like the poem just click the "x" in the upper right hand corner of the page and your problem is solved simple as that. I wouldn't say I'm depressed but I wouldn't say I'm extermely chipper at the moment either but it's a way of life I suppose