Battles,
There are so many kinds. People may die in some battles. Some by the hand of others or themselves. We see the tragedies of hate and murder on the news all of the time. What if the real tragedy is when one kills themselves? But really would they be killing themselves? Or is the words of others killing them? Whose to say that person had a choice in life or death? To them it could have been the only way out, the only choice to get out of this pretentious world. Maybe they believed they were too stupid, too ugly, too boring to be in this place, to continue living among intelligent, beautiful, and intriguing people. With no real friends, only people who saw them replaceable and annoying with a family they felt resented them. With a romantic partner who tried their best to understand them but was just out of reach of that understanding. This person, though they may not be, felt worthless and unimportant. They push everyone away in fear of being hurt again and again then one day they ended it all...
Now you tell me, What was the real tragedy?
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Random Poems and stories.
RandomThese are just random stories and poems I have written over a long period of time that I thought I should type out and show here. Please comment and vote it will help me know that people like what I'm doing.
