untitled

it's not really a poem.there's no rhyme or rhythem..just the thoughts that were bouncing in my skull one morning.

Sitting on the porch

Feeling half alive

This skin doesn't fit this body,

not anymore.

A change needs to take place.

I can't keep walking these paths.

 

Starring int he mirror,

I don't see that little girl.

Pretty in pink

Spininng around without a care

I see a weighed down conscience,

bags under her eyes.

No, she doesn't sleep at night.

 

Counting the mistakes,

Chances untaken.

They pile so high..

Can i ever climb that wall?

If i do will i become a new,

Or will i stay on repeat?

Doomed to walk in circles.

 

Starring int he mirror,

I don't see that little girl.

Pretty in pink

Spininng around without a care

I see a weighed down conscience,

bags under her eyes.

No, she doesn't sleep at night.

 

A body so used,

My heart kept from others.

These secrets unspoken, they choke me.

Wish i could breathe out the tension.

Wish i had a pill to soothe this rage.

Can i ever slay my demons?

 

Starring int he mirror,

I don't see that little girl.

Pretty in pink

Spininng around without a care

I see a weighed down conscience,

bags under her eyes.

No, she doesn't sleep at night.

 

I stumble in ambiguity.

Blinded by my pride.

Lost in slef doubt.

There is no Cheshire Cat to point out my path.

So i wonder as i always do,

With the weight of my future on my back.

 

Starring int he mirror,

I don't see that little girl.

Pretty in pink

Spininng around without a care

I see a weighed down conscience,

bags under her eyes.

No, she doesn't sleep at night.

Author's Note

yea i know..the grammar sucks.but it's just how i write when my pen is trying to keep up with my thoughts. =]