The Only One of Truth

It’s dark out now, there’s a chill in the air;
the sun has set, the day is gone.
Just like the night I find myself alone,
questioning why society has settled to sleep
and left me to be the only one of truth.

My story is tragic, often times misunderstood;
I've stood in their shoes
danced around, grasped the feeling
and have fallen, broken, where I am now
Society forces us to hide away
to keep all our pains a secret, as if we don’t feel this hurt.

Sometimes when they talk, their eyes wander to me;
paranoia, enforced by past, sets in with the stares.
I hold myself high,
faking a grin,
hiding the scars.

The pain continues, no one really understands;
don’t know why I continue fighting.
Taking on life, welcoming on the stress:
I can’t take this, it’s too much.
Can’t see until I draw blood,
the knife sitting above my skin:
I’m addicted.

It’s dark now, the chill colder than ever;
my sun has set, feel life slipping away.
Like night, I’m completely alone,
questioning why society sleeps
leaving me,
the only one of truth.



A strong poem as it is. The pacing and wording is very clear, steady and evocative--I actually had chills reading the line "my sun has set, feel life slipping away". There is a definite atmosphere here of gloom and frustration--nothing is overstated, and everything is presented in meaningful amounts. Making your subject matter more specific may make this strong poem even stronger.

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