Not me...

The week has past

Quick like weeks before

     I keep dreaming and writing

               searching and sighing

Still nothing to show

     Only scribbles on pages

     Like expressions on faces

Of people in passing cars.

 

Here with myself

No one to wake me

     I keep hiding and reading

               feeding and sleeping

Someone please shake me

     To open my eyes

     To blue summer skies

Before I fade away.

 

Nowhere to go

Maybe I do it on purpose

     I keep screaming and sinking

               dying and drinking

A total disservice

     To everything I am

     And all things I'd planned

Not who I meant to be.

Author's Note

The overall feeling strikes me as a bit elementary, probably because it was all too common in my youth, but it still creeps up now and again...

Reviews

[A.Kalashy]

It is beautiful and it is structured
You start with
first frustration
second judgment
third aid
forth guilt
and conclusion
Well done

[Rain]

I really loved this piece. It is my style. I wish I would have written it. I don't write alot of poems, but when I do , they all seem to have a gritty southern feel to them. This has that. I can hear a piano/bass, guitar. It sings. Great work. Rain..