There was a time when these mind crimes

Led to some prime rhymes

With a fine line between "I'm fine" and "Am I dying?"

But I could focus on the hardest parts

And make dark art that would restart my heart

Exorcise all the vexed eyes and checked lies

That were tearing through my insides

And externalize all my demons

'Til they weren't as big as they seemed, then

I wouldn't be scared of my dreams, when

The laughter turns into screams

But now I don't have the freedom of naivete

As the anger burns my life away

And I lack a creative line to say

And I lack the stacks of time to play


In a way that gets people to listen

And give me the love that I'm missing

I know the selfishness of my mission

But it's all that I have for a vision


Is this just what you do?

Just what you're supposed to?

And push away what is true

Push away what is you?

Is this the way that I cope?

By letting go of my hopes?

And string them up from these ropes

Line them up in your scopes?


I know that my pain ain't new

And I might be better off than you

I guess there's more than just severity

That matters if you seek clarity

I guess I always thought that maybe my gift

Was to drift in my darkness and shift

Through all my shit for the song or punchline

And throw that out for someone to find


And if I could guide them back to their peace

Then maybe there'd still be some left for me

But here's the thing that I failed to see

There's nobody here in my mind but me

And all these promises of tomorrow

All these songs about conquering sorrow

Are just echoes of my own ghosts

That I follow but still get no closer


And the anger turns into doubt

And the doubt turns into self-pity

And self-pity turns into disgust

And the mind that I primed to be witty

Starts turning itself against me

Quickly learning the worst places to hit me

And these words I laid turn to hand grenades

And my own thoughts don't even fit me


And I hope to god no-one finds me now

If they could even see through the blind somehow

And avoid the traps scattered on the ground

That were meant to help them find their own way out

'Cause I know that it won't be worth it

Don't bother trying to unearth it

Just another narcissistic artist

Who dreamed of being perfect


I'm sorry that my mosaic shattered

Now broken glass is all that will matter

I just hope that I don't cut you too deep

With my broken colors beneath your feet

And maybe if upon closer inspection

You happen to catch a glimpse of your reflection

I hope that it gives you direction

I promise that was always my intention

Thank you to PowerPoetry for allowing me an opportunity to express my voice
And the noises that compose my choices
Hoist me up and through the poisons
Around us, surrounding us, and continue to confound us

This poem is about: 
My family
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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