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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1624887
A short poem on life itself in a depressing sort of way. Please leave critical comments.
Sucram
Churning inside them,
Their secrets scream to be heard.
No one has yet assumed of what their minds hold.
Nobody questions the silence,
                        Or the anger…
What if they heard the silent cries of pain?
What if they saw the blood?
A boy and a girl walk alone in the dark,
  Searching,
                  Waiting,
                              Hoping.
Lives decay like a forgotten corpse left to linger in its mistakes.
Is the end really only the begging of a new world?
These souls are full of questions,
Which never seem to be answered.
What can one do but slowly suffer in silence?             
The solutions to these problems are your own to be discovered,
Letting the journey fill your empty being,
And pray it will revive your lost motivations and desires to continue on with a fulfilling life.
Must we remain in this pit of endless despair?
Day and night,
                Dreams and nightmares,
                                            Blessings and tragedies.
Yes we are mental,
And yes we are hurt.
But leave us to ourselves and we’ll show you who we really are.
                                                                                      We are blood,
                                                                                      We are life,
                                                                                      And we live to die.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1624887-Sucram