Calibri Fonts

A quick poem to test if my mind still works.

I want to write about what life left out

Feelings I should have felt that were never there

You need things to be taken out to ever care, you can only enjoy them after they’re gone, is that even fair?

I grin and bear it, even though I don’t share s**t about how bumpy this ride is

I confide in myself more than anyone else

I don’t show the cards in my hand, no one’s on my side, dealing with devils full of pride who see me as a mirror

Lies turned the tide, I've been baked and fried, tried hiding in the water, fodder, now I’m drowning alive, but I drive my mind forward without fear, got pulled over for dangerous driving, but pour me another beer

Sword of words in hand, steel gears in my head, bored of being fed poison that tried to moisten my eyes as if I'd feel dread when I’m already dead

My computer keyboard is my friend, but I see no end to the regurgitated reality, 

A fallacy, fatality of the truth to be has blinded me, I can no longer see what I was meant to be, honestly

Treated to s**t from others, once brothers, beat me down, pounded me into the ground

My mother crying is the sound I hear, but I fear nothing

B******s bluffing with cards in their hands that can't understand they can’t beat a joker like me, I’m a wild child

My poker face is a smile and will erase the defiled riled up  misdirected meaning in this place

I'm no ace

But I’ve perfected feeding back the words I ate onto the plate

I may not be a saint, too taint to see the pearly white gates, well that's great, but my determination isn’t faint room mate

I paint my own walls in these halls, even if my spirit falls and death calls I've got balls to say I will never be defeated, not today

Because I stay seated at the table while I’m playing poker with the hyena’s

Able to go far without a broker, searing scars, I paid in blood for my cards, so I'll keep playing until I'm folklore, spoke no more, blood gore, washed up on the seashore, bored, morred on the beach, chained, I'm still reaching for the stage from where your preaching teaching I'm evil, your beseeching yourself, bad for your health, go somewhere else I'm sick of playing cat and mouse louse.

Angry people are hungry for another meal, harvested from hateful fields, using prejudice as a shield against a common decency treating me hellishly 

Eating my thoughts, drinking my feelings until I’m hanging from the ceiling, and you said my story wasn't real

There is no hope of revealing the truth, the ones who speak spit hateful words and have a screw loose

Until I rope this noose, I will continue to produce a response, usually in Calibri fonts

Author's Note

If your wondering why calibri fonts, it's the font I write my stories on before I publish them.

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.

Reviews

[monono]

This is a bit absurd but also just great. Calibri fonts! Yet it's so strangely apropos, almost like reminding us that these feelings are really on some level... mundane. Its just kinda hilarious - just thinking about all the angry, upset writers out there writing their melancholy in Calibri font. The inanity of it is almost more brutal than the pain itself.

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

It is pretty absurd to be honest. I put emotion into it, but after a second read, I realized I'm not a rapper, you know? It just sounds funny now when I read my creation a few times later. In my opinion being funny and serious at the same time makes it better than I expected. You actually made me look at my own poem in a completely different way. Thanks, I got a good laugh from rereading this after your post, and most of all, thank you for sharing your thoughts.