How do you overcome feeling inadequate?
If only it were that easy, if only
I could stand, hand in hand with them,
the fleeting feelings and dreams I used to have.
How do you conquer sadness?
Fighting day after day
not knowing why I held my hands in a fist,
scars and weathered skin across jaded fingers
hoping to be caressed by kindness
instead of gripping onto anger.
How do you abandon loneliness?
Running day by day,
hoping to find some kind of new home,
hoping to have a place for salvation
only to be lost,
no map in hand.
All I ever wanted were the revelations of faith and belief,
the hope that one day it would all be behind me.
That somehow, seeing this world with my eyes
would prove to my heart that it was worth it,
prove to my soul that the next break I take is justified.
Against my own wishes,
I want to be me.
Written by: David C.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Inside My World
All I wanted was to see my world change, to see the day in a different light.
Grime and grit and dust,
covering everything that once glittered,
I'm hoping that I can see them shine again.
Someone tell me how I let it get this way; treasures I've kept all turned dull,
the fire of my passion burned out.
It never even raged to an inferno.
Pity how I sulk, letting this world place its weight on my shoulders.
I've become that jaded work horse, ready to be put down.
Yet a voice, a single voice kept telling me to push.
All I had to do was push.
I'd be free from the chains, but all the pushing and pulling, all the dragging, stumbling, fumbling and fussing, all the yells of anguish and all the roars of anxiety have just placed me two steps farther back.
That voice,
that voice which sounded so sweet, told me to keep pushing.
I wish it didn't.
Air.
Let me breathe.
Mind.
Let me think.
Heart.
Let me believe.
Let me believe for some little reason that I'll have faith once more.
Believe in what that voice had said, believe that all this struggling is worth it.
Believe that the world is filled with colors I've never lived in.
Still, until I can have that faith,
grit,
grime,
dust.
The lackluster world I put myself in is reality.
Hope.
It shines brilliantly.
Written by: David C
Grime and grit and dust,
covering everything that once glittered,
I'm hoping that I can see them shine again.
Someone tell me how I let it get this way; treasures I've kept all turned dull,
the fire of my passion burned out.
It never even raged to an inferno.
Pity how I sulk, letting this world place its weight on my shoulders.
I've become that jaded work horse, ready to be put down.
Yet a voice, a single voice kept telling me to push.
All I had to do was push.
I'd be free from the chains, but all the pushing and pulling, all the dragging, stumbling, fumbling and fussing, all the yells of anguish and all the roars of anxiety have just placed me two steps farther back.
That voice,
that voice which sounded so sweet, told me to keep pushing.
I wish it didn't.
Air.
Let me breathe.
Mind.
Let me think.
Heart.
Let me believe.
Let me believe for some little reason that I'll have faith once more.
Believe in what that voice had said, believe that all this struggling is worth it.
Believe that the world is filled with colors I've never lived in.
Still, until I can have that faith,
grit,
grime,
dust.
The lackluster world I put myself in is reality.
Hope.
It shines brilliantly.
Written by: David C
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