by Avery Creon
A poem about stuff that goes on, I guess. I don't really know how to describe it.
|If forgetting was so easy,
Why am are we still here?
Thoughts of the past,
Are always racing through our mind.
And our future,
It doesn't seem so bright.
Nothing about the present seems right,
The past seems like the best for us.
Nothing we do is adequate,
For anyone that knows us.
Anger being the culprit,
Causing our feelings of abandonment.
Fire we long for,
Repetition the world is always bringing,
Makes living meaningless.
Who knew life would bring,
Devastation and discontent.
We still try to look past the thought.
Heartache always coming our way,
Like a stake stabbed through our hearts.
So much pain for all of us,
Is the same as shredding every nice memory.
What if these things could be changed?
You know, only peaceful, and perfect.
If only that were possible,
But who knew many have thought that to.