Poem things, Rants and Thoughts, Unfinished songs

Convoluted Contemplation


Feeling like a freak,

A fiend,

A founder of foolish fantasies,

The type that typically tremble,

Under my own tormented testimony,

Testifying against my own will,

My own goals,

My own home,

My whole role,

It’s all a cold,

Convoluted,

Concentrated,

Congregated,

Compilation of complications,

Yet it’s not contemplated,

It’s the way I was made,

And that can be hurtful or hated,

But never doubtfully debated,

I can take it.

Turn me around,

Roast my town,

Flip the frowns,

Now make ‘em proud,

To be heard loud,

With this sad sound,

I can feel it right now,

But that’s not what this is about.

It’s about problematic insight,

Memories kept sealed tight,

Ideas that don’t feel quite right,

The type of nights,

Filled with fear and flights,

Inside the mind,

I hate those types,

But what would life be without the fight?

Can only dream to have it easy,

Even though I’m supported,

A better life is always teasing,

For those who can afford it,

But I don’t own shit,

Have a place with no floor,

And a ceiling that leaks,

Going hungry for weeks,

To try and repeat my grief,

Now I’m falling back asleep,

Just to relive my dreams,

It would seem,

I’m bit far off from my meaning,

Yet these words keep on seeking,

A little bit more sound releasing,

From the parts of me that are speaking,

It’s not about just believing,

In a better part of you,

The part meant for keeping,

It’s about finding the reason,

Repeating the problems,

Until hope stops the bleeding,

You can be free,

From all that’s inhibiting,

Your growth and your dreams,

Just follow their lead.


NV. – written on June 27th, 2018 started @ 9:02 a.m. finished @ 9:29 a.m.

No context, feel like this one speaks for itself. – SF.

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