Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Poem by Peter Paray

Dead dreams
I dream that I'm dead
A million ways to die
But I choose to live instead
I'm a coward
A loose end
No hopes for good
It doesn't process in my head
Comfortable in my misery
My Happiness... locked in the dark shed

I tried to cry once
Now I can't stop
Solitude is my medicine
But it's become an infection
My days don't seem as bright anymore
I've forgotten how to smile
I have too many weaknesses
And absolutely no strengths
My days live faster then I do 
My years do too

A miserable poem
By an agonized person
What more did you expect?
I can't understand you
Until you speak my language
I can't see what you see
Until you see what I see
I can listen to you forever
But you can't listen to me
Only because.. I don't speak.

 

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