Black

Here's an old poem from a few years back. Once again, dark but hopeful in spots.

last night i gave up hope
put my dreams in a boat
sent them down the river
as my soul started weeping
as my body laid my head to sleep
my mind began trying
to build a world
where living didnt feel so much like dying
mercy has left me
with pity while i sit here crying
im past the point of self control
im past the point of trying

this new hope is now dirty and old
back on the corner of a forgotten street
where it was once sold
and though i see some light ahead
a glimmer, a beam of truth
my happiness is dumb it seems
 it screams for something new
ive lost control, ive nowhere to go
my friends are all but gone
my life feels so useless, i feel so small
i refuse to carry on
the drugs do little but fuel the search
for contentment and release
there must be a better way
to find some sanctity
alcohol only numbs the pain
that courses though these violent veins
thinking of a wasted life
of every single time ive tried
to make a better way through strife
will i be my father
or will i go much farther

sometimes i think ive nothing to gain
but still im pushing forward
with more progress comes more pain
ill have my just rewards
but until that time it seems
ill just stay lost in dreaming
the life ive carved is a crooked stone
im past the point of self control
from this theres no turning back
my soul is jaded
my soul is black

Reviews

[julian3]

A marvelously melancholy stroll down the dark, gritty streets of a weary soul,
where the window mannequins' smiles are pained, the doorways dark and urine stained,
the church choir's songs are void of hope and silence calls from the end of a rope -
in other words, your efforts once more have succeeded in drawing the reader into a world in which the familiarity of questions that no one wants to answer, reminds us that at one time or another, every one of us walks down that same street and stands on that corner -
"this new hope is now dirty and old
back on the corner of a forgotten street" -
the battle of humanity, of human-ness...
Some great lines in this one. Keep up the good work.

[FoolsGold23]

"where living didn't feel so much as dying" that line was the key point in this poem for me. the emotions were written like a sigh of resignation, almost like it was giving up on itself, then finding a way not to. Lovely work, dark, yes, but life isn't all neon and glitter. Well done, poet!~P