The Image (Poem)

I look down and see a face,
Of someone that is not me,
This hollow empty shell,
Of someone I claim to be.

My heart it does still beat,
And blood runs through my veins,
My lungs still fill with oxygen,
I’m able to move, jump and yell.

What is this thing I’m doing,
A life that I claim to lead,
When I can find true happiness,
And my heart is filled with love?

There is a hole down deep inside,
Nothing of this Earth can ever fill,
Maybe I wasn’t born with it,
But through my life its grown.

Each shattered illusion,
Biting grip with reality,
Has brought me to this moment,
When I open my eyes and see.

You want to tell me fables,
Of how the good succeed,
That happily ever after,
Is something we can achieve.

Don’t give me that fucking pipe dream,
Of how the meek inherit the Earth,
When you haven’t lived in this day and age,
When we are expected to overcome so much.

I see a world that is confused,
Of children carry adult secrets,
And feel as if they are the dirty ones,
For the things they are forced to do.

Fuck being right or who it might offend,
Nothing ever stopped occurring,
By keeping quiet and playing pretend.

You want the world to change,
Then get off your ass and do something,
So that others won’t suffer the same pain,
That you act like doesn’t hurt you.


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