A poem, sort of

Wishing to Fall

At the edge I sit,
Legs dangling, swaying to and fro,
While far below the waves crash,
Roaring as they die against cliff face.
As the sun rises, the glows.
The royal purple of the sky fades,
And the last stars glimmer on the water.
The wind blows cool around me;
I stretch out my arms
and feel my soul yearning to join it,
To be free.
Looking down, seeing how far below
the sea below lies,
dark yet inviting, calling.
To think, to feel the rush,
diving towards the rippling surface.
Standing now, swaying in the wind.
One step forward.

I like that. Very pretty

Pretty, I suppose. A little more subtle than intended, maybe.

The Flight of Hope

Trapped in a box, waiting.
Sit, stay, they tell me,
Just wait, the time will come.
So I sit,
And look through my little window.
And I see nothing,
nothing worth seeing.
Just machines going through motions,
Busy and noisy and important,
But it is just so much nothing.
So I look in, and escape.

Again I look.
Now there is more nothing, but different.
Now truely nothing.
There is just space, dark and empty,
A cloud hiding the light I seek.
I stretch and peer to see through,
But there is nothing to see.
I hope, but there is little hope left.
I sit, and wait.
The time will come, perhaps.
Unless it does not;
Which would be better?


I am so tired,
Exhausted such that I cannot rise.
Hope has fled,
Leaving only dispair in its wake.
I am abandoned,
Nowhere can I find relief.
I must continue,
If only because others look to me.
But it is wrong,
There is an emptiness inside.

Something is missing.
A reason.
It is why hope has fled.
I want not, but am not happy.
There is no balance, chaos reigns my soul.
There is a nothing that holds me,
I cannot break free.

I will pretend,
Pretend that all is well,
It is silly to worry others,
Why should they hurt?
Smile, and they will be fooled.
Pretend, and you will be fooled.
But what of hope?
How do you proceed without hope?

You go forward, round and round in a circle,
Entangled in petty traps and bound tight.
The rain of misery comes, and tries to drown,
But there is no breath left to still.
It is only a shell, walking dead, heartless.

Where has its soul, its heart, its spirit been left?

Your Talented man, good job.

The responses I’ve gotten on these is better than you all know. Thank you. I’m having trouble not laughing.

My intention for posting these poems was to release the negative emotions that welling inside of me, as opposed to posting works that were primarily intended for c & c. You’re still welcome to do so if you like, but be warned that the intentional ommision of punctuation in this following piece is intended to increase the pace of the poem. Enjoy my misery.


Trapped, trapped,
I feel so claustrophobic, stuck inside a box.
I cannot escape, this little prison, self-imposed, binds me tight.
I can see freedom beyond my invisible walls
Locking me in just a large enough cell to sit inside.
A cage of my mind, walled with papers and letters,
Screaming, yelling, shouting at me.
I cannot focus to eliminate these barriers,
I push and shove them away but they spring back and grow larger still.
Madly I spin, desperately seeking an exit,
The door is before me, but where is the key to release the lock?
It may not be locked but where is the key? Where?
What can I do?
Who can help?
How have I come here?
Around, around I spin, frenzied mad.
Up and down, back and forth, trying to break through
Panic panic panic. Waste indeed but yet I panic
And so much the worse for I am soothed by apathy,
But that was my downfall and why I am here,
Apathy has betryed me; my friend, it has betrayed
And still in madness I cling to it, Hoping the panic will pass
Hoping me doom will pass Hoping my prison will pass.
It is closing in, tighter and harder, Agony
Turn for help but I’m turning too fast. Spin spin spin
Blinded by the rush and panic, Make it stop. Make it stop!

Note, I have added titles to the previous works. Maybe you’ll understand better what the original was about, but that’s not important.

Fleeting Victory
I thought I was better,
I thought I had conquered my demons,
I thought I broke free.
I was wrong, they haunt me still,
I have torn down the invisible walls,
I have ended the dizzy panic,
I have regained hope,
But then it left me again, ever fleeting.
Soul-less, wandering, seeking the substance
That might the void I feel inside.
One desire do I feel, the joy of love
Or so I believe.
But it is out of reach, too far away,
Raised above even the pedestal I have built.
My heart is lost, and the bearer knows not.

Hope gone, love abandoned, goal found.
I will continue as I always have,
The world needs not know my pain
It has enough of its own.
Self is irrelevant, it is the rest who are my reason.
The truth has been so, unobserved despite its hints;
I shall sacrifice my whole for others if necessary.
A pillar may I be, an anchor of peace,
A bastion of justice, a ray of kindness;
For if my desire can not be obtained
I shall give what joy I can unto others,
And take what happiness I might in that.

No longer is it possible to hide
The wickedness causing this feeling dark.
The wretched demon is trapped inside
A bitter cage that taints the heart
How emptiness could live so long
And bring to surface the gravest fear,
Pain is dulled by indifference strong
Chilling joy that had resided here.
Alone I stand no chance to face the evil
The strength of one is far too weak;
Help of friends to lift the hopeless
With the love of other hopeful people
Must move first to aid one who is so meek,
So cry out to save from this distress.

It tries to be a sonnet, but fails in a number of aspects; the meter is irregular for one thing. Of course, it is more appropriate that way, since the idea that this piece means to project is that there are problems that need to be corrected, but it at least tries to take a form, whereas all the previous ones have had no defined structure whatesoever.