Uncapitalized

What do you wish,
To live your life?
To be happy?
To stop one person's tears with a single hand?
To destroy?
To belittle?
What do you really want?
What do you really know?
And do you really want know what you want?
To be honest I just don't know.
Sometimes no one really knows.
Knows who I am.
Knows who you are.
I don't know what this means.
Why the stars arrange themselves so,
Coming at me i just want to scream and shout.
I just feel so alone inside my brain.
I try to understand, but somethings just not coming through.
It's not fair, is it really.
It's what i keep thinking.
when I see the news,
when walk down the street,
It's just not fair i want to scream.
but I don't. I try what I can but so many won't.
They say, does the antelope think it's fair when the lion sinks it's teeth in it's throat.
I know they mean't well.
I probably won't survive long with this feeling. Building up inside.
After all I'm surrounded by people but i feel so alone.
Like a leaf in a storm being blown around. Not knowing if I'm going to be the house the tornado will tear down.
I could think of no response nothing righteous in my vocabulary.
Damn, it's all just perspective. So it hit me.
All my ideals all my thoughts. The compilation of who i am.
Without my ideas who am i.
So like a deer running from the bear. Or the kid drowning in the ocean I fell, sucked in by something i can't truly understand.
All the while every bone in my body screams why the hell not.
Why can't it be fair.
We can't control fate.
But we can control how we react to it.
When it comes to people i know why.
I can guess, trace every action to every thought and from where, caused by what.
I know why.
i know why-
I just can't UNDERSTAND why.
Why they do this.
The human capacity to injure,
The uniquely human joy from shoving someone into the dirt.
The human joy from causeing unwanted hurt.
It's not fair.
it's not fair.
No one can control fate.
But can't we make what we do fair.
Why the hell not.
You know the funny thing.
The truly, hilarious thing about this whole damn thing.
Now you probably know more about me than three-fourths of the people i know.
Isn't that sad.
Aren't imitations sad.

Author's Note

Sorry 'bout the grammer guys.

Reviews

[Leslie Philibert]

A poem that impresses with inner reflection and hard, outward questions that give this a fine dramatic
tension..

[SlightlyOdd]

Thank you Sooo much for reviewing.