I don't trust myself anymore
Slowly losing this personal war
Shots fired, grenades thrown
Fighting against the unknown
Bruises, cuts, and scars
Organs kept in many jars
Rarely, when I'm weak
I sometimes picture the future bleak
And living with that train of thought
Leaves me frightened and distraught
Then come my allies out of the blue
To help me fight and stick it through
Soon comes the realization
It is not their obligation
They do it for the others
They do it for my brothers
To lose another one
Getting closer to none
The idea keeps me fighting
And instead of cutting, writing
YOU ARE READING
Taking a Stab at it.
PoetryI haven't really tried to write poems but due to recent events, I've decided to take a stab at it. Rhymes and near rhymes are my friends, just thought you should know. Most, if not all, of the poems Rhyme.
