A spent poem about being born out of turn and paying the price during my early life. |
-That Same Old Empty Feeling- by Keaton Foster Wicked Wild Thriving That same old empty feeling Inside this mind Swishing around Behind these hollow eyes All of it based upon lies I don’t know the truth All that I know Is what I’ve said All that I’ve ever confessed God above must differentiate The devil deep down below Does indeed claim Ownage of this very soul Wicked always is the child Born out of turn Such a tragic mistake Continually happening An unintended bastard With no parents to call his own Shuffled between many homes Some quite loving Others quite terrifying Never once understood Every report written upon his behalf Said the same damning things This child is broken Unable to be fixed This child is wicked He should have never been born His life is a waste A yet to be written off mistake He should be moved on To another home run by strangers Just at the off chance That some kind of a difference could lead To the salvation so desperately needed Wicked Wild Thriving That same old empty feeling Inside this mind Swishing around Behind these hollow eyes All of it based upon lies I don’t know the truth All that I know is the lies The ones so easily told The ones so easily owned Many believe all that I’m not While I myself know What exactly it is that I am That same old empty feeling Is my everything All that I can claim as mine The family to this life The parent to all of my strife The God of my every right In this place I don’t belong I was not meant to be Sad, I’m sure it may seem… That Same Old Empty Feeling Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014. |