There are some days that the core of this poem is true, more and more I fear is the case. |
-Its Dark Inside- by Keaton Foster Visions Feelings Ridiculous ideas Requiring flushing out Its dark inside Night in the day Blackness before dawn I can never see Blind I may seem With my eyes closed I can truly hear Hypocrites As always are near I know them well Upon this page I spill their hell The truth I must tell At great cost To me and myself Its dark inside Never does any sun shine Nor does any moon reside Nothing is truly home The God of my universe The crux of my heart I cannot feel anything Life and thus love All just an act For the man that is me Incapable of any care Is where I’ve always been The void is my residence My home of skin and bones Where I am supposed to be I’ll never escape Never truly leave When I’m deceased The essence of my life Will flash away like a flame With nothing left to burn All of me All that I am All that I pretend Will be upon these pages Lies and truths intertwined Time and condition spliced Into a monochromatic abyss That few will dare trespass My wife and child Will find another way A different, happier place Never knowing that I The man that one called father And the other called lover Was incapable of feeling Anything at all Its dark inside It has always been night Absolute and freight It has always been dark Shattering blackness Suffocating my feelings Or should it be said An ability to have them There are no lights in sight Nothing luminescent Nothing incandescent Just suffocating All consuming Blackness and doubt And thus Madness brought on By a life truly without Its dark inside… Its Dark Inside Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014 |