I myself am hell

Or so you say because
No one listens anyway.
You pour your problems out
Simmering like rain.
They nod, and change the subject again.
No one listens anyway.

First they'll say they understand.
Then they'll try to give advice.
In a while they're numb to every word
But by then you will have learned
No one listens anyway.
No one ever listens anyway.

The fortunate are the ones
Surrounded by people they love
But out of those if there is one
Who feels alone and unheard
The fortunate can't give a break
Because there's others turned their way.

And I'm by myself again.

Poetry by Sameen
Read 341 times
Written on 2019-06-25 at 22:37

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Coo & Co The PoetBay support member heart!
This has the feel of a confessional piece, with elements of slam. Are you interested in performance? Perhaps you could perform it, Sameen :>)

Love the refrains. They add more music to the lyrical piece.

The shape of the poem appeals to me greatly. A flexible formality, one might call it. There's a limber supple music to the lines. And of course, the substance of the poem commands our respectful attention. Well done!

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Accurate and deadly as a sniper's bullet.