Wrestling With Life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this when I was 24, sort of a way to measure how I was feeling inside. It's sad to see that I was this sad, the crazy part is, I really never knew until it came out thru writing. My life long measuring stick.

Submitted: July 30, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 30, 2008



All that I hoped that was meant to be turned out not to be for me

Upon that discovery I find myself relating to a idea that’s new

Taking on new thoughts different perceptions and such

I’m tired... there are too many new ideas to many different interpretations

As the reject I face grows I begin to contemplate why

What is wrong with my theories my thoughts;

Are the bumps I take from growing pains, in vein

It is said that we learn from all our experiences yet at times my knowledge gets me nothing

Respect is on the horizon companionship is around the corner but pain is here

Its been here and as soon as I thinks it’s ready to go it burrows a little deeper

It feels as though my pain is what lets me know I’m alive

This life journey is not made for the weak and brute strength is only skin deep

My hope, my will, my spirit is my force shield and sometimes one person slips by

Like a large comet crashing thru the earth’s atmosphere with one mission; One plan

Destroy all in its path; This comet, this object,sent to do its job

Alwaysfinds me at my most vulnerable state

That’s my life, just a ball of pain

InstantlyI’m engulfed in the fieriest of flames, only to go to work the next day and pretend

As if everything is fine while inside when myworld is destroyed by this comet, this bringer of destruction

If pain is what wakes you up, why live when pain exhausts you and puts you to sleep

The answer is simple, hope a small flower that wasn’t destroyed, delicatley strong it sways in the wind

I slowly began to rebuild my city around that flower making sure my defenses are little better

Yet always knowing I may some day fall prey to a new interpretation

I may be swindled by new idea only to have to rebuild again

I love life but sometimes... life makes me hate living.

© Copyright 2018 Hugh Parsons. All rights reserved.

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