Po•et•ry
/poh-i-tree/
noun
1. the art of rhythmical composition, written or spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative, or elevated thoughts.
2. literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ide...
Should I Say Some pity lines or describe the pain that's in my heart?
Because I'm S H O O K --by life and the fucking happy memories it took, you wouldn't even believe the shit I been through, damn I can write a b o o k.
But it's crazy "NOW," that I'm sitting here thinking and I'm asking HOW--with a heart full of pain and regrets, trying to do my best--yet--still getting caught up in the stress.
Am
I
+blessed
or
-cursed?
Is the question that comes to mind.
I'm looking at my life and asking where did I lose it?
The only time I'm humble is when I'm writing, or listening to music--on some therapeutic--shit, so I type p.o.e.m.s.
Even then I still don't feel whole + some = I fell a "whole"(hole) and then "some".
Though I constantly tell myself that it'll be alright, just hold----->on, but this pain and distress seems to be too... S T R O N G, not even drugs could pass it along--hands presently tied to the sky asking, "What's Wrong?"--with me. I'm too young, this is not how my life should be. My mind in a constant state of overthink--ing and repeating itself of resentful thoughts, leaving no peace (0%)
It's a 'dead end' as f a r as I can see.
No end of the road type shit, but a dead life and an end, as in D~E~F~E~A~T, where you begin to count your forsaken sins--having living a life of pretend--through the artificial laughs and reluctant smiles.
Sometimes I think not even life itself can, in my shoes....
walk a mile.
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