DISCLAIMER: again, just like part I, the idea for this one came entirely from Pink Floyd
It's a cry for help.
Why don't you understand that?
All the pride has been swallowed down into the dark abyss of broken souls and shattered dreams.
They told me this was the way to fix it.
It's only caused more angst and hatred.
Why is it so difficult to trust people?
It used to be the easiest thing in the world.
Growing up really does mean leaving your kindness behind.
Or at least a piece of it.
Let me tell you something, lovely person who's reading this.
Whatever they said to you, they're wrong.
It does not help to isolate yourself.
Don't build a fucking wall.
Don't do it.
You'll never be able to tear it down and go back to the way things used to be.
There's no chance.
They may tell you it's the way to go, that you'll never get hurt again.
Sure, you won't be hurt by others anymore.
Now it all comes from yourself.
You are by yourself
Your only company are the voices in your head and the old ripped up mental picture of your innocence.
All things you'll never have again.
Don't do it.
Never even place that first brick.
You'll regret it.
YOU ARE READING
A Day in the Life of the Human Race (Poetry Volume I)Poetry
This book is completely random and contains all different kinds of free-verse poetry. ❅ I don't even know where some of these came from, but are pieces of writing somehow developed from the pits of my consciousness that make me wonder what the hel...