The people around me
They all seem so happy
And now I feel everyone's happy except me
They keep moving on
But don't they have people that are gone?
Don't they ever blame God?
Weren't they ever stranded all alone?
Don't they regret things they've done?
No, am I the only one?
The cyclic flow of nature
It all ends where it started
But how long till it ends
I started out happy where's my happiness again
The process is too long
I dont know if I can bear it anymore
Red roses on valentines
Black ones for when I die
Wouldn't it be funny that I get more flowers,
On my funeral then when I was alive
Heaven is for the good ones
Hell for the devils and monsters
But what about the people like me
Who were just there, living
Do we fit in any of the places up there
Or do we just remain in our casket
YOU ARE READING
Unsaid words
Poetry"Is happiness really a myth". A collection of the most cherished pieces of my soul: my poems. The things I wrote when I loved, when I hated, when I raged, when I dared and when from reality, I escaped. My poems are a way for me to get away from the...
