"The Real Killers"
Do you know what kills a person?
It's not suicide, I tell you.
It's not the cutter that gashes your wrist.
It's not a bullet that goes through.
It's not the bombs that cause explosion,
Or that epidemic that caused the plague.
It's not the arrows that shoot with speed.
Or the surgery that gets you saved.
It's silence.
It's the wars in your mind.
It's everything you thought of,
Those damn, wretched signs.
It's the what-if's that fill your head,
The emptiness full of nonsense;
Hollow but voided with pennies
For thoughts that were immense.
Slowly, you couldn't handle it.
It attaches like a disease,
Like a shadow wherever you go,
Haunting you with ease.
Slowly...it eats you alive,
Unless you put up a good fight;
It won't leave you
Out of sight.
Don't leave these people vulnerable;
They'll crack when you turn around,
And smile at all the cameras,
Like nothing happened in town.
(c) WhiteSecrets715 2016.
Written: Aug. 4, 2016. (Dedicated to Overthinkers like me.)
YOU ARE READING
White Mirrors
PoetryMy third poetry collection. This is basically how my university life went: Crazy, drama, loopy, happy, and genuine bitter partings. It'd be great if you could read some and tell me what you think about them. I'd really appreciate your thoughts!
