The silence in the night makes my blood run thin.
Silently to myself, I ask,
“What’s this pain I'm in?”
This face I put on is kinda like a mask.
Prevent the feelings from coming out,
For all I do is cry and pout,
Suddenly, I begin to shout.
Why does life have to end?
We’re not all different;
We are similar, and there's no need to pretend.
We’re kind of like shapes,
Living full of sin.
We have the same angles
Just different proportions.
I can’t believe this is the night
I’ll lose, you, all my friends.
The chances are that I might
Have to blend in.
For when I'm gone,
You’ll find out I did wrong
So let your sins out from within.
Please don’t cry, for love is strong;
I loved you for very long,
But now it's time to go.
I’m sorry, my dear,
You have nothing to fear;
I'm always gonna be here.
Even if not physically,
In your head mentally to fill your heart with cheer.
In my tomb I rest all night
With demons I will fight,
So, my darling,
You can get away from plight.
Even if I don't see light,
Please don’t cry tonight.
Life is full of shapes.
Even if they’re different,
They have the same angles.
Isn’t life magnificent?
It’s one of those things we don’t talk about;
We’d rather sit around and
Wait for death to come to town.
Trauma and agony is all that it knows,
Except for whenever its victim has many foes,
Destruction and pain following everywhere it goes.
But if life is full of it,
Doesn't that mean life is chaos?
Technically, nobody can tell for everyone
Has a different form of hell.
Even if you may not know well,
You can hear it when death is out of his shell.
Though I am not one to listen to others groan,
But for quite some time I’ve felt alone.
The stories I hear let me know so well,
We’re not the same yet,
We aren’t that different.
I am certain, for that I shall bet.
For there are shapes of life
And they’re filled by each other's strife.
The shapes come in different forms
Just for others it's worn,
Which is why some wish they weren’t born.
Oh, I wish it wasn’t,
Everything hurts deep down.
Unwillingly it makes us all frown.
Sometimes we get happy
Throughout the sadness.
It’s kind of Ironical;
Isn’t life horrible?
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The Shapes of Life
Misterio / SuspensoThe Shapes of Life is a poem about life and death. Though we all seem to be different with personality and looks, we are all the same as in we all make mistakes and have feelings. There is more to it but I'll let you keep an open mind.
