The End of the Road

When the scenery never changes,

and the road never stops,

where reality gets dull,

and daydreaming an illusion,

and the mind travels too far ahead,

anxious to know where the road leads,

but having no destination in mind,

and a little voice that is to quiet,

pointing out other roads to try,

but this road will lead to great things,

due to a road sign that promises such,

and thus the road forever goes on,

and the scenery never changes,

except for billboards with hallow images,

and scribbled on signs every five miles

is a hollow promise that states,

that at the end of the road,

it will all be worth it.

But yet nobody ever questions,

why this road should be followed,

and for all anybody knows,

and the end of this road,

might be nothing but a broken bridge,

with smashed cars far beneath it.

Normal Way

My thoughts of the future,

lay uncertain and obscene,

with dreams of success,

weighed against,

the lack of knowledge,

of how to succeed,

in what I love,

for a chance to live,

the life I always wanted,

the beginning is rocky,

and I’m afraid of failure,

but I know if I don’t try,

I’ll never know for certain,

and instead of chasing dreams,

I’ll live a life more normal,

with work and marriage,

and die a normal death,

and be stuffed in a coffin,

and buried in a graveyard,

where my body will allow,

bugs to survive,

while I decompose,

in a normal way,

until my body,

has been eating away,

and relatives,

ceased to come visit,

and generations pass,

and I’ll be forgotten,

in a normal way.

A Poem of Deceit

 

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A Poem of Deceit :

In the delusions of the unknown,

an illness was hidden behind old myths,

that many blindly believe without question,

leaving to a confused woman, lost in her guilt,

to be tied down and starved until her quick death,

from an exorcism that was wrongly produced,

by priests that were only trying to help,

ruining both their jobs and the girl’s death,

and lead many  to question,

rather the girl was delusional,

or if really possessed.

 

(This is a short poem I did after reading about the Anneliese Michel case. she was murdered by the priest during the exorcism by forced starvation and dehydration. There is an audio clip video that has her speaking in tongues and made many believe this is real. However, her strong religious views crossed with her interest in boys and many believe it was a mental disorder brought on by her guilt of having natural urges. She was in Catholic school in Germany and so it makes sense that she would know pig Latin and other old languages. So rather she was really possessed or had a mental disorder, she sadly died in her early twenties.)

Morning Thoughts.

This is a poem about my friend who keeps talking about wanting to kill herself and my fears that one day she will get her wish and leave behind not only me, her friend, but her family, her boyfriend, and others who love her.  Its pretty dark but I hope you enjoy:

Morning Thoughts.

How crazy that yesterday felt like a dream,

with laughter and movies and cardgames,

creepypastas videos and scary dreams,

filled with coca-cola and greasy food.

We were happy yesterday, you and I,

and we talked about our dreams for the future,

of grander and importance,

of richness and frame that all craves,

we were going to show the world wrong.

 Today spills the end of the future,

as you drove the knife into your arm,

trying to destroy a life too delicate to keep,

not caring about those who care.

We were best friend that been through a lot,

you were kicked to the streets without a care,

I was a loner who enjoyed her time alone,

but always wished I had more friends to talk to.

Still dreams about a better future motivated,

we had each other to lean on for emotional support,

I just never knew you would let a man destroy you,

by allowing yourself to blindly fall into a unhealthy love,

and thus driving you closer to a destructive state.

The third attempt  was the last straw,

I watch you fall closer to death everyday,

the scar on your wrist is a painful reminder,

one that I have to prepare for,

someday you will succeed.

And on this sunny morning,

laying on my bed and staring at the ceiling,

I kind of wish I never met you,

just so when you do succeed,

it won’t hurt me.

I learn to stop begging you,

I learned to stop asking,

I learned to enjoy the time we have left,

but still I feel like begging one more time,

just please stay alive for me.