I have forgotten my youth. Months and years have eroded my life like a sand bar pounded constantly Was I young? I can't remember tossed and turned in hours and minutes that measure my life. My youth, Lost maybe? What makes us old? The constant sound of the Tic Toc reverberates around my head . I sense death at every turn, but my clock continues to Click the hours of the day like a melodrome , keeping a beat for me to follow. Counting down the moments of my life. I can't sleep anymore. I don't wanna wake up dead! Or am I already?
That was pretty good! I like it! Maybe I could try to write something, but I won't promis anything. If I can write something good, then I will pass it on to you.
Thanks. I probably won't get it to you anytime soon, but it might help if you could describe for me what your looking for?
I can relate to that poem a lot, being in foster care and abused and taken advantage of by two girls. And being there because of an abusive alcoholic dad. But I got out, my mom got us back. But I can't get it out of my head, none of it. It like I can't remember my younger times. And I'm going to 11th soon, and have a not so great relationship with my family. Eachday I wonder why I don't just kill myself...because I'm already dead arnt I?
@killzone Things will get better. Don't kill yourself. That is one mistake that you don't get a chance to fix. Killing yourself is final, and once you do it, everything is gone. The ride might be bumpy now, but you gotta hang on. In the end, it'll be worth it, if you make it worth it.
Killzone, here's a poem for you. Hope this helps. Number 9 THE JOURNEY Quietly we start Not always we accept The travel through life We all depart In the begining Everything is simple We see the world Through the same eyes Carefree we go Learning more and more Each day We witness the world In different ways Discovering emotions We never knew Some we like And some that sting And gaining memories Of friends and family We cherish throughout The years Towards the end We look back Remembering the Time we had The joys And sorrow This journey produced Leaving a legacy Of what we did On this jorney- A journey called life
That was good! I guess it sort of helped I just wish I could go to the past and change everything Eachday I have flashbacks of what happened And I just wish it was over and out of my head But eachday I have to relive it over and over again. I wake up eachday asking myself if I should and eachday I try. I just wish it stopped. But thanks everybody Thanks colonial!
Oogway: Quit, don't quit? Noodles, don't noodles? You are too concerned about what was and what will be. There is a saying: yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the "present."