16 August, 2014

Still I try

Still I try to find something to say.
Still I feel in a helpless way.
Words are insufficient to get understanding across.
Words often fail due to information loss.
Galloping onward, I'd rather crawl.
Galloping over, I fall off and bawl.
Why must expectations of others I meet?
Why can't their standards with a stick I beat?
Much rather to raise my own flag pole high.
Much rather that than to look up and sigh.
In the morning, to rise without thought.
In the evening, to feel you've been bought.
During the day, to ears come the lies.
During the night, from cold fingers prise.
This poem's getting somewhat depressing.
This poem's not what I should be confessing.

Hail the deck, this stormy day!
Hail the wreck, this night's foray!
Belt the men about the head,
they'll not feel it since they're dead.
Are they dead? I cannot see.
They move not, so it must be.
I see their bodies, tossed with waves,
Bobbing limply, to their graves.
Hark how the wind doth howl.
Huddle deep, pull tight the cowl.
How was the message misunderstood?
Did they hear it and then put on a hood?
Clear as day, 'twas crystal clear.
The instructions told I them here.
Though I knew they'd try to see,
Still I tried to get them free.
Angry hearts and prouder eyes,
Have oft here met with their demise.
Pity the souls at home still waiting,
Who hear the storm, the loneliness hating.
Bound to this island where come the seekers.
I envy their freedom, those chaos wreakers.
Bitterer pills still I must swallow.
Could I save one, work would not be hollow.
Dig and heave,
Work shall not cease.
Into the earth the men shall go,
Into the graves, row upon row.

I give up.
Everything that comes out right now
is dark.
So I shall cease
and hope for

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