Sitting in class,
Wishing I could actually pay attention.
My music sounds like nails on glass,
And I don’t know why, but I feel apprehensive.
I don’t know why I’m writing this,
Maybe to be able to focus.
I need to be dismissed,
But wishing is hopeless.
I’ve always liked English,
But today is not my day.
It needs to hurry and be finished,
And stop being grey.
My mind is on everything else,
Like how my friend isn’t so gay.
He’s too stressed,
And too sad to sway.
Or how maybe some parents forget to love,
Or possibly stopped caring.
But they’re away, so that’s good, sort of,
Because now I’m swearing.
About what though?
Love? Hate? Feelings? Or all of the above?
My mind keeps going to and fro,
Because there is no such thing as free love.
Or good, or perfect, or just.. Anything,
Everything is bad.
But my aunt has me worshiping,
And it makes me sad, or possibly mad.
Because in life,
Everything is bad.
There’s so much strife
Over the deadbeat dad.
Because everything is bad.
Then there’s where I never feel like eating,
Because the thought of food makes me vomit.
She says, maybe it’s because you’re used to overeating,
But this is common.
Then there is the medication that could be the answer,
But I don’t see how.
I’m always full of anger,
Sort of like a cow.
Always being used,
But have no control.
But I’m not bruised,
And I’m still a whole.
Or that’s what I’m told,
But you can’t believe everything.
Everyone is cold,
So I’d be thankful for at least one wing.
I don’t want to celebrate Christmas,
Because I know I wont be able to see the kids.
I was told it was none of my business,
Like they clicked the button “forbids”.
Why can’t I focus?
Why can’t I do this simple task?
Maybe all of this is bogus,
But I don’t know because I don’t know how to ask.
Ask for help. Answers. People,
Instructions for all of this.
It’s all evil,
And it comes with a hiss.
But everything is awful,
I wish I could click delete.
But that would be unlawful,
They’d think I was a cheat.
Or a coward,
But everything is shit.
Maybe I just feel overpowered,
Does this make me a hypocrite?
Because I like to help others,
Or smile to make them feel better?
No, I would need others,
Maybe I could write a letter.
Explaining how I feel on the inside,
Or would it get ignored?
It would make them wide eyed,
And maybe I would have to go to a ward.
Grapes are my go-to subject,
Because they’re what I wished to be.
They give off an amazing affect,
And they know their reality.
Maybe I’m reading this wrong,
Or not understanding correctly.
I don’t need anyone to come along,
Or anyone directly.
General
Comments are closed.
1 Likes
1043 Views
Share:
ok, so, I do have an account I just forgot about it… but i didn’t comment on your other one.
This is really great! I think the long-form poem was the perfect medium for this topic.
Thank you so much!!