MisunderstoodA Poem by Not here
It's hard to understand what others feel. Sometimes it all seems so surreal. The pressure of life makes you kneel as you wait for somebody to appeal. Most of the bleakest days are spent alone, sitting in your room with just a phone, wishing someone would call, but you know nobody cares. They're just a no-show. What else can you do but just sleep? Otherwise, you might waste your nights and weep. After all, there is nothing for you to keep. All your memories are lost counting sheep. What causes your depression? Is it all the pain? You know, it's starting to infuse into your brain. Nowadays, you're just locked up in a chain. Everyday that you struggle causes the drain from your energy source that you need if you hope in this life to succeed. I struggle daily, fighting against the greed. I have to fight with myself as I plead for it to leave me; oh, all of the thoughts. They are only covered up with all the shots. I would be a cheetah if bad memories were spots. What's the point of casting all my lots? There's no outcome and no helpful aid. I asked God for his aid, I always prayed. No matter what I did, every Sunday I'd trade my time in for some religion. I stayed for the entire service. It didn't help. Why? What's the point of church bells if I only cry? If it doesn't help me, if it makes me high on the religious wine and I go awry. We're all misunderstood writers, struggling to write. With our words, we are trying to make the world bright. Underestimated, dissed, and often we are quite the opposite of what we wish, struggling to fight. Despite all of the harmful words, we are moving toward walking out of the arena, leaving the crowds floored. © 2015 Not hereAuthor's Note
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16 Reviews Added on May 19, 2015 Last Updated on May 19, 2015 Tags: Aren't we all misunderstood? Author
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