Struggling To Change

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

taken from my book, "In The Sand Traps Of Desire"

Struggling To Change


The wrath of God is killing me

But I can't begin to love anybody

Maybe that's why I can't be loved

I feel the wreckage build up inside

And the cogs in my head?

They don't work when I'm dead

Eating fruit would not entice me

But maybe I do need some peaches

__in my system

I swallow all my death

But what's to become of taking my time?

I couldn't blow my money

On anybody else but me

In the doorway of a new era

I am stuck inside the corridor

Maybe if I hang myself now

__there won't be any trouble

But even my willingness to die

__is not strong enough

I scream in my brain

The hall where a peanut sits

__on a throne

But could I be anymore disgusted

__with myself?

The stories over looked

The samples of life

__that I've been feeding off of

Seem to taste like "nothing"

If I wake up early enough

I could drag a razor across my head earlier

But how can I starve myself of sleep

__when I go to bed too late?

I don't know how I'm gonna get to work

I breathe in the weakness

__and exhale stupidity

____everywhere I turn to

______to try and escape the torture

If I ever know what is happening

I may be beaten to death

Just for knowing

When a candy bar falls off a shelf

I may as well just kick it!

Since I can't eat it

I grow sicker by the day

I'm just not healing, at all

There is no dream to chase after

So how can I make my dreams come true?

I can't fly without any wings

All these suggestions of change

__is just too much

It's overbearing to have growth needed from me

I don't see myself growing anymore

To have come from where I came from

__you would think of it as impossible

If you were worser than everybody else

__in your past

How can you ever be better than them?

Seems like thee only way to end up better

__is if you were already the same

I'm not even the same yet

That's how bad it's been

I dream about putting a bullet to my head

But what does that really solve?

I'm already dead

When somebody laughs at me

__I can sense it

I don't have to hear it

My ears are too busy

__hearing the cars' tires on the road

____chuckle as they roll past

It's not on my mind though

But how can I stay fine?

It's on the back of my mind enough

And it won't let go of me


07-16-'15 #3

D. L. Cannon

Submitted: July 20, 2015

© Copyright 2022 DLCannon. All rights reserved.

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