Loud Pøetry Spilled From The Quiet Soul

part 42

I feel so stupid.
Opening my big mouth and telling my one friend that I'm depressed.
I hate admitting to it but I have to face reality sometime.
Reality...
What is reality?
Is it a game that
We all play and eventually run out of lives?
Is it a false picture given to us by
A made up man named god?
Some people spend there lives trying to take there's away.
Slowly tearing at the seems of reality
Getting closer to nothing.
In my opinion this reality is the horrible truth that has finally come out.
People make up stories from history saying that there are places that are better and worse than this.
Heaven
&
Hell.
We have clouded our minds with this belief in hope that they are there.
But are they really?
How can we know for sure?
Take away faith,
Take away hope,
Take away trust.
How can we know for ourselves?
How can we be sure that we depressed and horribly damaged are fallen angels that are fighting to get back home?
Is our subconscious act on instinct?
Is it possible that
Some of us are fallen angels trying to
Kill ourselves just to enter back to the real reality that we once called
Home.
But if you really think about it,
We all are being punished.
Punished for the first two human beings who were test subjects on this earth.
Who made a mistake and got no second chance.
So now after all this time we are still trapped on this world waiting for out clocks to finally punch out
And then what?
Nothing?
Heaven?
Hell?
What?
Is the real question we should all be asking ourselves.
Fear strikes over those who can't except the fact we are only marionettes
For those of higher power
Waiting for a them to bring out the scissors with the brand of fate
And cut us lose because we were
To old,
Suicidal,
Or not good enough and
Got a disease or cancer.
Well I'm done waiting for someone else to cut my ropes.
I'm taking control
And cutting my own.