Discussing questions

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

Submitted: March 27, 2010

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Submitted: March 27, 2010



It's amazing how and you get what you don't have. It's hazy when you looking for identity. In places left empty.  Asking if i'm really here. Can you tell me who I am. If your really there. Can you show me you care. I'm so tired of this of being distinct. I won't to wake break out of this current state. Distractions pulling me from touching destiny.  So exhausted of the weight of burdens. And all the plastic covered faces. That I blend in. But I'm sick of this mask that I've kept. It gets tighter each day. And it's getting harder to breathe.  Unveiled is the filth that my flaws gave. Need som evidence, some content and evidence. And underneath is something I rather not discuss. This mask I can't describe the face below  the reason being I've never seen it. Call me a lier.  Ask me for a favor. But do me one. Don't ever mention the underneath tension pulling me to descension.  This hope its not over this converse with my father was one never popular. Yet bringing  me to my knees Even when I wanna retreat.  Still and small in this cave. Is the only place I know your name.  But I can't look back now at the past now that I'm falling I can finnally fall into your peace. And opportunity for unity me and grace.  You can't understand Until you've been there. Here in the middle of me.I think looking from the outside. Failed choices passing my past. 

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