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Rated: E · Poetry · Political · #2193155
A quick poem I wrote about feelings that I have been having lately.
Failing upwards towards purposeless goals.
Walking on stairs made of people.
Chains winding tightly around their souls.
To myself, I cajole, I wheedle.
This was no choice of mine.

The chains hang loosely over me.
I hold up this burden exhibiting it to all.
Rolling in the guilt of an endless sea.
Their eyes fastened to me, an oncoming squall.
Like the moon, do I eclipse their struggle?

To fight, to rise up, to ally.
Sick of all these decisions that lead to pain.
But I can’t see with either eye.
Is it all in vain?
Reaching out with my two hands.
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