He lies under the doubt. Restless and sleep-deprived.
Awakened, is his soul—one who constantly weeps.
The back of his hand, dried and crusted
with the tears.
Never had he felt so vulnerable.
In the woods of a hunting ground, where gunshots fired. An environment where he was just a mere prey.
Legs of a goat, and an arrow through his head.
The boy grips the paper; a game of memory.
A result of failure.
He carries his books, off to the next stop.
Failure calling him once more.
What was his worth?
Where was such a place where the
incompetent ones such as him, belonged?
He labeled himself everyday. Each failure that resembled a number on a paper, wounding his
short confidence.
The body of a human, but with the
mind of a clueless animal.
That's what they would call the hopeless boy.
What was his worth?
Such as a loser like him...
where would he end up, in this system
they had so wrongly developed for the youth?
What was his worth?
They labeled his smarts based off of a
number; dreaded numbers that determined his life.
Dearly, he hated it.
He doubt himself, over and over.
Until his heart began to crush under his mind's insults—his bony ribs, caging his passions and depriving him of his breath under his
own insecurities.
Time passed, and time passed. On and on.
Until he finally came to realize his hopeless struggle.
His constant criticism, eating off of his very mind and leaving him with nothing in the night; only the everyday tears that the boy would sob, and the
piercing ache in his stomach as he aimlessly tries to run in the dark, with nothing to hold on to.
Nothing to depend on.
Truth be told, as he ceases his breaths;
he was worthless.
YOU ARE READING
❀ƒᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs❀
Poetry(2017) A book about feelings + freestyle poetry (?) I wrote some of the most cringe and emo shit, so bear with me.
