I bleed,
A subliminal feeling, burying me in the depths of sorrow
Crying out for help, but all it is noise
They tell me to say what I feel but that’s all there is
Why don’t you ever open up…? When I do I get crucified for it
You are not ambitious, You are careless, You are no good
Me opening up becomes their weapon to further shoot me down
The bad lingers as the good slowly become reference of what I could be
A good deed is accompanied by a but…
Only if you did it like this or this way, it could have been better
Wait! What about what I want?
All I am, a portrait of people’s ambitions and opinions
Molded in what they think is good for me
Do you even know me? A shadow of what you purport me to be.
Because no one understands my story
Hold up… Understanding means they know at least something
Have a tiny glimpse, but I don’t think they even know me
Okay, here is my story… I lost my father at a tender age
But I ask myself how can you lose what you never knew
The void that He left, left more questions than answers
What if He was here then it could not have been like this…
But a tiny voice breathe into my ear,
Child, how can you view the world on what you know not
Never will I know the feeling of having a father,
So I search for it in other people’s son
But, what exactly am I looking for? I really don’t know
Because the depths of my memories don’t have anyone to compare to
The poem was written by In_Her_Thoughts Blogspot. To read the rest of the poem click here.
