I confess
I am blessed
I have nothing to stress
I just lay here in style
and dread for a while
I choose to lay in my madness
it’s no secret, I guess
I’m blessed
I’m blessed
So don’t put me to rest
I’ll confess
I know more than I let on
or maybe I don’t
I hold back
no need for that
When will these pains be gone?
My madness I choose to lay in
does it satisfy me?
Are we really a family…
like a giant tree?
Old ghost stories
they don’t frighten me
I just live a life
That was molded for thee
tales of old times
come with a thousand rhymes
Do I confess?
To the pain that haunts me
the thoughts that torment me
What will I do when their answers
don’t satisfy my needs?
Shall I just hold in the bleed?
Is this just the eerie feeling
of Halloween?
Or is it just my excuse to cover up
these haunting terrors I call my feelings?
Is this my confession?
No, I won’t confess
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Comments3
Like a search of your soul and beliefs
Maybe as hinted at brought on by the season
You mentioned your madness a couple of times
Then came the thousand rhymes line
Thoroughly enjoyed reading
Thank you very much!
Whether a confession or an expression it is well said. We all know more than we confess and so it should be. One never shows their hand until the last card has been delt. Writing is a wonderful way to deal with issues, I use it all the time. A poem well done keep it up
Thanks SB
You are most welcome my friend
Period.
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