Why do you wait? What is it all for? Why should I stall? If I stand for nothing what would I fall for. Questions with no answer needed. Could apathy seduce me toward inaction? If it did what would be the worst of your reactions: would you claim my hypocrisy or understand knowing your own? Should I fight bloodied as I am? Should I cry wretched as I am? Should I fall into martyrdom or should I protect my line? Should my shot be wasted or saved? Noose round my neck as I write, should I kiss death? I watch from distance my own life passes me. Am I worthy of a life? Brave words leave my lips and even bolder the ink of my pen. Are my values my own or just pretend? Should I win a war with myself would I build the nation of my dreams or waste the promise of cream on simple corn? Would my legacy end at a start yet to come or continue past my own life? Would my honor be called into question? No answer needed, but would they at least understand? I couldn't say but would I be called pathetic, wretched, or tormented? Could they see the point? Life shortened by fuse lit in dark pits relishing the thought of light not thinking of the consequences of flames bursting in my mind and person. Is there beauty waiting in it? Why do I wait? What do I stall for? If I can't show my ideals what was it all for? If I stand for nothing what will I fall for?
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Lackluster writing...bad writer.
PoesíaConfessional poems. These are how I feel about myself and the things around me. These poems mean a lot to me. I may not be a good writer but I wanted at least anonymously to share them.
