Burning bridges

Inside his mind falls a blanket
To him it is a blessing
His mother knows not much, so then
He finds everything less stressing

He feels like he could fly away
Like he intellectually grow
His spirit is so cold and bitter
But little does he know

He thinks all this is just a part of
Freedom of the speech
While he sits alone, staring
At his nearby beach

I see him, he feels not sad
Nor I can see joy
Actually I see much less
Than I ever saw in a boy

I see no sparkle, I see no face
His eyes look like they're dying
He screams again, and again
Let me out I'm crying

The irony of this is quite,
Funny, I must say
How he does these lamentable activities
In such a mannered way

He holds my hand, he holds a joint
Like there is no one left to disappoint

I look at him, it's sad but true
He drinks out of the mug
He knows as well, his face is skinny
Why he buys his daily drug

And then his daughter cries some more
He just acts so shady
The daughter that he actually feeds
Comes from another lady

This time I feel less of sorrow
I worry more about tomorrow
I wonder when he'll ask for borrow
But we both know there's no tomorrow
She curse the day you woke up
And thought, that you wanted something more
And you don't see this, but you will
Inside you're fighting a civil war

You build your own prison
You escaped reality of the world
You think you have got it clear
But every straight line is now curled

I turn my head once or twice
As I go away
There is nothing I can do to stop you
Nothing I can say

Once comes a day when you realize it to
But this is not the one I loved, this just isn't you

Your sadness infiltrates your soul
You try to stop, but you hate control
The darkest clouds cover your sky
And you realize, suddenly
That you want to die




Poetry by Lena
Read 849 times
Written on 2009-11-01 at 15:42

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text