Devil's Gate

I wrote this poem when I was 16. I felt like my world was turning upside down - I know, that's what a typical teenager feels at that age. However, I was dealing with the fact that I was abuse, physically, emotionally, sexually. I lied to preserve what dig

Is this my life?
A heart with many holes?

A soul that is broken

and cannot fly?

A life with no cause

created by lies.

 

Questions left unanswered

and it feels like my

time will run out.

Can I wake up today

with no shroud of doubt?

Or will I need to compromise

with myself and work something out?

 

Thoughts and confusion

flood through my head,

overwhelmed by its constant run

I would rather stay in bed.

End it all now or see what

tomorrow brings?

Will I be disappointed,

if It does not sing?

 

The pain in their eyes

as they speak of

a boy once great.

Has taken himself out

over the simplest of mistakes.

No child his age

should endure such

tragic fates.

What will they think,

if I laid my heart on a plate?

 

I ponder these things

as I sit on Devil’s Gate

and wonder to myself,

“If I do it now,

will they be too late?”