Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

Rope


This is to all you privileged,

Self righteous faceless fuckers,

Never have known seldomness,

Never have had a helpless mother.

Or an unsuccessful father,

From a family that’s a bother,

Without money for our problems.

We never had a way to stop them,

Payments after payments,

Do you know what day to day is?


They all say “I’m so alone”,

Yet you sit and stare straight at your phones,

Full of people that you chose,

Nah, you don’t even fucking know,

I bet they’ve never been this low.

Take a look at all my limbs,

All you’ll see are scars and broken bones.

From where I have had to go,

The limits of my patience,

And all the damage I now know.


You don’t wanna know what’s it’s like,

To have to re erase your soul,

Over and over again,

Changing faces as you go,

Never knowing who you’ve been,

Who you should be,

Or if you’ll ever have some kin.

Always feeling unimportant,

And as if you’ll never quite fit in.

If only I could find my ending,

But that’s simply where it will all begin.


Now I hear everyone may be feeling insane,

Still they all know growth and gains,

Never felt full of real sick shame,

Still it’s my kind of people who get the blame,

We may all have a heritage,

But some of us have no names.

No fortune and no fame,

Less opportunistic change,

More redirected rage,

Our society is nothing more than a corporately constructed cage.

Built on laws and governments that are simply meant to take,

All its citizens hopes and dreams,

Monetary values and everything in between.


I bet all of you have had some help,

Probably never really hurt,

Never screamed and never yelled,

For more than materials or your wealth,

Always had a sense of love,

From any one of the beings up above,

Yeah, they’ve never had it rough.

Always had just enough.

What happens when hope takes off its gloves,

Smacks you right across your face,

And asks, “how’s it feel to forget love, never have anything to dream of?”


Have you ever actually been homeless,

Or hopeless,

Remotely contained,

Or throat less,

Had no voice to portray,

Or not felt,

But actually been worthless?

I was told life is game,

That makes me feel lifeless.

As if it’s something to be tamed,

What a joke,

It’s meant for those rich,

And those famed.


So when you sit there,

Do nothing but assume,

As if you could even have a clue,

Don’t begin to think you will understand,

Any of the feelings that I’ve been through,

Or what I have had to do.

Everybody’s life is little different,

And I wish that mine would just end soon.

Take me out of the gutters that I’ve construed.

Away from the problems that I’ve been glued to,

And all the situations that I can’t seem to get through,

Unlike the drugs and alcohol that I so habitually find ways to consume,

As if they can settle my symptoms,

And make my mind feel new,

As if I can drunkenly just pick and choose,

Motivations and places to not be riddled the fool,

This life it just gets to me,

So now I’ll enter the rope.


SF – written between August 10th and September 4th, 2018

2 thoughts on “Rope”

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