And from the ground as it wept and cried
I felt so keenly that I had died-
A beat just off track, a step behind
Renegades running through broken fields
Only to find half a heart left to wield
A step off track, a beat just behind-
What world left to live for me and mine?
But for a slit of a wrist what pain
Could be solved? None, yet it haunts me still-
There is a harsh beauty in tears, no?
Almost gratifying, removing
Myself before the world chooses to.
But would that not be a battle lost
Shame for me and mine- more for mine, I-
I am trapped yet free yet cold yet open
And broken fields with those shattered hearts
How can I describe a deathless death
Where I, arrogant and foolish and-
I am broken, and it is my fault.
And I will not fix myself unless-
Unless I can find myself worthy
But what is worthy in human life
How do you measure the good and right
When the world exists to create strife?
I wish the rules were clear not this mess
Inside my head where colour bursts free
To paint confusion and empathy
While my morals look on lost and mute.
And how do I end with no clear plan
Just inane rambles with half a wish-
I just want the world to be kinder.
Not to me, but to the innocent-
How can I live when they suffer so?
What right do I hoard that they do lack?
This is poem #3 from my upcoming poetry anthology, “teen angst doesn’t sell as well as it used to”. The photo is also one of mine, I dabble in it a little and am particularly fond of this piece. I hope you enjoyed!
