Let's face it we're all broken
We're all left in the ashes
Left in the dust
It is really kind of a bust
When your breathing becomes hard
And you feel as useless
As the idea of trust
Does this make us all stupid?
Does this make us all dumb?
Stuck in self-doubt like a self-destructive bomb.
Is wading through the pain really worth it in the end?
When it leaves you wanting to be dead?
Can it be seen as a gift?
Like a way of reminding us that were alive.
Maybe it's shows us how life is swift.
Brutal but it's the only way we have to survive.
Being broken doesn't mean destroyed
The shards of glass that are all over still exist
Like we have the inability to avoid
All of life's torture, and all of life's grace, in which we try to resist.
Bring on the pain
Bring on the sadness
It keeps me from a life of disdain
It's worth the fight against the darkness
Authors Note:
Hey whomever reads this! You're awesome. Thank you!
Side Authors Note: I'm serious about writing again this time. I really do miss it.
YOU ARE READING
Paths: A collection of Poems and Short Stories
PoetryThese are poems and some short stories I have written over the years. Some are good, some are from a younger me. I have a deep love for poetry and I hope anybody who reads these poems and stories enjoys them as well.
