10 June, 2016

Long Winds on a Gentle Breeze

All we ever wanted was somewhere to belong. Somewhere along the way we were lost and not found. The world keeps spinning ever faster down As the life of a man begins to come around. The light of the stars begins to fade The darkness of night begins to give way. Moving forward is what needs to be done, But which way is forward when you can't remember where you've come from? The memories and goals and hopes I held dear Are all lost to the sands of time. My mind shifted and got rid of all its grime. Except for the emotions that were attached, those are still with me, lingering from my past. Everything recently feels like a song, Rhyming, scheming, hoping that I'm wrong. That my life isn't ending in a way that won't be long. I want my story to be of great length, a marker in the history of man, for something that's Nobel and Peaceful I'd what I am. Yet a wise young woman once sang, only bad people live to see their likeness set in stone. This thought makes me feel even more alone. I hope that all this pain isn't real, that one day I can lift the mask off my face, and live what's real. Yet I'll never truly know what's beyond this point, until I take the leap, and break free from the joint. Maybe with enough drugs, and present, I can be me, the lost human that the world expects of me However, I hate the thought, I hate the feeling, that knowing any minute I might be reeling from fright, hoping to grasp on to someone else's flight. I just wish my wings alone were strong enough to swing, with the excitement, and passion, of a little kid. The world ahead of me, the darkness behind. Supposedly it's all just a fabrication of my mind. If I keep writing, maybe I'll kill enough time, to not have to worry about ending up at the unemployment line, because with ever letter I type, I gain one step forward in this rough life. The world thrives on attention and thieves. For the funds of contentment to flow from the top, one must earn the attention and admiration without the need to stop. Yet there they stand, the thieves waiting on land, for the ships to hit sand, where they can take a step forward with their demands. I. Want. To. Be. Me. Yet no one cares to actually see, that I need them as much, if not more, than they need me. I. Need. To. Break. Free. Someone, please... Save me. I ask of you, to help spread the word, to support my weirdness, despite how absurd. Without you, and your support, I'm left with nothing, but being broken in and hurt.