Needless to say,
I have been back there again.
The wishing well of dreams
has made my mind rot.
The consequences of before
seem only too near
and I focus my lust
on nothing but games.
My brother has kept,
my wife told her tales.
I have yet to find
myself the right transport.
I'm stuck like a child
who has climbed too high;
too fearful to move
because of the pain.
Like a beaten dog
I forget who I am,
with memories stinging
my eyes with no mercy.
And kicking my happiness
away like a stone.
And slicing my feelings
right down to the bone.
And burning my love
until I'm finally shown
that I hate that my life is not as good as I remember.
But still with my penny I return to create another.
- Author: Luke (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: April 9th, 2017 00:52
- Comment from author about the poem: [Please read poem first] This poem has many meanings to me, but essentially illustrates the difficulty in living a unfulfilling life and hoping it to improve, and how mistakes from the past can have repercussions in later life (in the case of this poem, these repercussions take the form of mental instability) and how debilitating those feelings are from a life lived in regret. I tend to envision it being narrated by an old man. In contrast, it also reminisces about how memories can feel better than they were, and the way in which we struggle to achieve how we once felt, even if we never will, is in itself somewhat redeeming.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 27
Comments1
Good emotive write.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.