(no subject)
I just thought I would share with everybody my old passion. Many people don't know this about me, but when I was younger I was depressed. I wrote to get my mind off of things. This is one of the first poems I wrote. Please when you read it listen to the words and then you will see how closely this poem really does relate to life. Please nobody get any ideas that I'm suicidal or anything. Lol. For some reason everyone who has ever read this poem seems to get that in their heads. Just read it.
River of Life
Life is a river,
Dark waters swirling around me,
Pulling me under,
As if all the anguish and pain of the world
Has come together to form this cyclone of reality.
The river is long,
I have gone over many rocks and stones,
Traveled many waterfalls.
And what is this for?
The struggle to hold onto one single breath
To swim against a current that yearns for my death.
I scream, but my cries are lost in the rage of this river.
The fierce storm pulls me along its treacherous path
Crutching my spirit with every turn.
And just as I feel myself slipping under a blanket of water,
The river begins to calm.
It becomes a stream, the stream, a trickle of water,
And its over...
The journey is finally over.
Thanks for reading. Go ahead and let me know what you think. For some reason I can't ever get depressed enough to get that inspiration, so I guess I'll try the other end of the spectrum. I really do love to write, and hope someday I can have my own book. But for now, I'll just have to bore you guys with my words.
Michael
River of Life
Life is a river,
Dark waters swirling around me,
Pulling me under,
As if all the anguish and pain of the world
Has come together to form this cyclone of reality.
The river is long,
I have gone over many rocks and stones,
Traveled many waterfalls.
And what is this for?
The struggle to hold onto one single breath
To swim against a current that yearns for my death.
I scream, but my cries are lost in the rage of this river.
The fierce storm pulls me along its treacherous path
Crutching my spirit with every turn.
And just as I feel myself slipping under a blanket of water,
The river begins to calm.
It becomes a stream, the stream, a trickle of water,
And its over...
The journey is finally over.
Thanks for reading. Go ahead and let me know what you think. For some reason I can't ever get depressed enough to get that inspiration, so I guess I'll try the other end of the spectrum. I really do love to write, and hope someday I can have my own book. But for now, I'll just have to bore you guys with my words.
Michael