Not sure just something that came to me. I hope you enjoy
I'd like to believe the best of me
is yet to been seen
Reading a sign that reads
“Welcome to the real world
enjoy all it will bring”
Falling over myself trying to breath
Landing upon my hands and knees
I now know what it means
Finding myself falling in love with the broken people
from broken places, broken families, just like me
Scarred and feeling incomplete
All the ugliness that comes together
to make this a beautiful place
Realizing it’s all make believe and fairy tales
This real world is meant for someone else
maybe the beautiful and rich
But not me
As we rest with the rest of restless
Their insecurities concealed by pride
will be there down fall
Is what a passing dog
whispers condescendingly
Having a near death experience
seeing my reflection gazing at me
Wondering what the f**k am I doing here
a malice truth unfolding
right there in front of me
This place is a lie, no happily ever after
Just making the most out of what we have
Chasing rainbows and blue skies
Knowing I am living on borrowed time
I lace my Chucks up extra tight
I be damned if I go down without a fight
I struggle on because
I like to believe the best of me
is yet to been seen
There is still so much
that hasn’t been written
In this unfinished novel
known as me
Humanbeings will always be incomplete for as long as they live because we constantly evolve in our thoughts. One day's truth may fall short of reality the next, attitudes change and mature, circumstances set us back- we are always changing right until the day that we die. We should not live with the pretention that Life should be a bowl of cherries, but nor should we surrender that we cannot gain what we want most in life. It's all up to us You observe your circumstances, look for opportunities (or generate them) and work towards your goals. I often say that we are dealt a hand in life and the outcome depends on how we play out that hand- it's as random and as malleable as that.
This poem basically tells me, life is a battle. There are many enemies in many forms. Many obstacles to overcome, before you can truly begin to know and appreciate who you are. Some don't survive the battle. Actually no one does, and therefore no one has the right to tell anyone they're worthless or condescend them, because they're fighting the same battle. Those people are enemies too. I think earth here is merely preparation for the afterlife. I call it Heaven and hell, but that's me. Others have other names for the beyond. We'll all find out after the battle.
I loved this Robert. It is a juxtaposition of despair and hope, thank god you wound up on a positive note. You make me want to believe as well that "the best of me
is yet to been seen
There is still so much
that hasn't been written
In this unfinished novel
known as me"
Thanks my friend.
That beautiful tree growing up through the pavement of Brooklyn...that is you Robert. Never sell yourself short my friend, you are a bright shining light in this here cave make no mistake about that!
I loved the way you put this together it reads extremely well and hits the heart immediately as it should.
The 'real world' could do with a few less do-gooders and enviro-nazis... and a lot more real people like you.
Cheers to you and bravo for a wonderful piece of prose...
Helen xx
Your writing is always so revealing and eye-opening.You always write as if you'd like to give the others a wake-up call.I think this is wonderful...every word, every line...just amazing!! I also think that God blessed you with a wonderful Muse:):):) You never cease to amaze me with your work.
"Knowing I am living on borrowed time
I lace my Chucks up extra tight
I be damned if I go down without a fight
I struggle on
I like to believe the best of me
is yet to been seen
There is still so much
that hasn't been written
In this unfinished novel
known as me"
Wonderfully said!!! This must stay in my library!!!!!
My name is Robert. I write therefore I feel I am. My words come from my heart, soul, and mind. I write what I feel and see, life is my inspiration. Life itself is art in its purest form. There is noth.. more..