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Rated: E · Poetry · Psychology · #1142009
This poem explores peoples broken dreams, literally and figuratively. Rate it. Review it.
A BROKEN DREAM


My hopes and dreams shattered like broken glass
I look through the needle of life and see blood dripping
Drip dropping heart-pounding sti-sti-sti-stutter stopping
Lost on both ends of the field feeling frag-mented
By any means necessary, I’m seeking es-cape
Exceeding hate, fleeing away from all that’s false and fake.
And staying close to those who through a storm remains consistent in(form)
Never lose site of my enemy I’m warned
Searching for a clean cut and clear answer
Wondering how I let obstacles, doubts impede me, and leave me, in utter defeat.
Why! Did I let them in those moments of question beat me?
Bounce back, make ‘em regret the fact, that they didn’t completely delete me.
I pray for the day I see a light and it’s bright enough to give hope
To the dark spots in, my room
My life hasn’t been the same ever since my mom died
In which case my soul died, drained. Of. All. Energy.
Simultaneously. Lost. All. Synergy. Giving my enemies more room to scrimmage me.
But never again will I succumb, nor complain about what went wrong or succumb
To feelings of hopeless thoughts and dreadful regrets
Bad memories let it sink like the titanic and totally forget solar eclipse.
I’ve lost everything I’ve ever had in the future
No longer safe to want to succeed because despite what you may want to believe
Its people out there who fear you and they want you to bleed.
Blood shed satisfies their demonic appetite. I’m seeking a victory
So that I could finally reach my afterlife.
It’s easssy to get stuck and feel low
And it’s easssy to feel like its nothing to live for
It’s easy to not want to grow.
It’s easy to just let yourself go.
Lackluster; to have someone in your love life you adore and, not trust her.
Shackles needs to be unlocked from my feet,
Lift me from beneath like a weightless leaf and deliver me from Eve. Please!
Hopefully for me the waiting list clears in a timely fashion
Well before I run out of reserves and become in need for rations
Conceiving of a goal and striving to turn it into reality, un-virtual.
Striving to follow my closely held values and universal virtues.
I’ve finally caught my bait. Freed from a deep sleep “I” finally awake.
Into an illusion that keeps eluding, so I remain A BROKEN DREAM.
© Copyright 2006 Gordon Carmichael (cartel2001 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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