Written in a particularly trying period of life and possibly an unhealthy mindset but the current state of our world, our culture is so trying it remains somewhat relevant. The format is all over the place but the poem flows ok in my head, I pray it serves the desired purpose to the reader.
Circles in the head
Emptiness
Dread
Stuck reflecting on the dead,
Routine
Victimizing
Conceptualizing
A possible escape
A hope
From the whole rotten game,
FUCK fame
Your favorite rappers name
How much our society values
Designer brands and
Designer Drugs,
Done being a victim of the game
And struggling with the shame
The remorse
The uttering of her name,
Can I remember you without the pain?
Can I dream of you
See your face again?
Oh the sorrows and suffering to life
Some never thought they’d wield a knife
As a sort of twisted pain relief
I’d lost hope,
Lost belief.
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