Sickness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
My own realization of my life and where i am at right now.

Submitted: May 30, 2008

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Submitted: May 30, 2008

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Sickness

My stomach is in knots
I think to hard of dreadful things
Of miseries to come
Horrors that this world has yet to see
The past that hides all my evil
All my lies, I've disguised
These days I worry as each second passes
I don’t enjoy the time in which I have
I am always fearful of when it will run out
Eighteen and I count every tick
that this clock takes away from the timer on my life
My pleasures well they are lacking
Can I ever be happy
I always think of what I can do before I die
To make my parents proud
To make my life worth something
To feel like I was here for some purpose to do something meaningful
What if I’m not
What if I am here and I am just living with no purpose
This is sad and dreadful
I am disgraced with myself
I’m mentally discombobulated
I can taste the distain
I have many inquiries into the psyche of the modern world
I try to lose myself in something in anything
So that I do not have to remember that one day we all die
I don’t want to die
I don’t want to leave this place
If I die
As we all die
Then I want to leave something of me here
Is it wrong that I want to be remembered
Can I do something great for this world
Or will I just be remembered as a man with no face
Who except for the ghosts that roam these empty halls doesn't see through me, who will remember
Encased in cobwebs
People with families held close
Whom were great mothers and fathers
Caring for children without worry went going to work every day right on time
Gave there life to this world and were perfect generous people
But now they are in my attic building up dust
I don’t know who they are
Do you remember the average man or woman
Walking through life not striving for greatness
But just trying to be normal
How great is normal
Is it really that much fun fitting in
Would you want to conform to normal
Can you challenge yourself to look in the mirror and be real
Are you one of the people remembered as a lonely grain of sand placed on this planet
On this huge world remembered and mourned for the moment
And then blown away and forgotten in the wind
Is it wrong that I don’t want to die
Is it wrong that if I die I want to be remembered
Is it selfish to try to be more then just a grain of sand
Passing over this earth during my short life
Can I just be something
Or do something
Greater than
Me
Can I die and be more
Than a
Memory

Dedicated to those who die and are mourned but not kept sacred, whose lives don't mean something special to somebody that they knew in there time on earth.


© Copyright 2017 B Leaf. All rights reserved.

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