For Real Dreams

2 Comments

  • supermancdr
  • is at the point of a writters block...aaahhhh so frustrating

Poem Commentary

This poem was written when I was at a bad point in my life. I was hanging with the wrong people doing the wrong things. Everybody thinks that things can't happen to them until the do. They think that bad things will only happen in they dreams.

For Real Dreams

Blood is rushing from my head
My heart slowly stops, now im dead
Did I die somewhere horrible, or peacefully in my bed
All eyes are dry though, not a tear was shed
Did I die from a mistake I made
Im dead wondering, now i begin to fade
Fade into a firey pit, im damned to hell
Screams hide that soft ring of those 12 bells
How did I end up here, already knowing i failed
I ended so fast, just like I was taunted by a spell
Fire is getting hot as i wonder if the letter of death is to my
  wife yet
Why is blood dripping little by little, did i lose a bet
My screams are hushed as me and the devil met
My eyes blackened, on my knees I crept
Screaming aloud for one last chance
My body got cold , I froze in my stance
My body grows colder as I lose my shirt, shoes, and pants
My body slowly gets bitten by posinous ants
My heart beats fast and I start to pant
The ants represent everytime i was not me
I choose to lie and never let the world see
Who I was deep down inside and who I be
My hands rush in the air, pleading, screaming with fear
Why, why, why? Why am I here
What did i do to stear
Stear my life in the dark black world with my blood
Blood dripping from my mutated hands
Crying and fighting myself wishing I could stand
But truly im looking at what I did and my possed fans
The ones who got fucked by me and created simple bands
My body starts to shake as my legs turn to sand
Is this what I deserve, is this my masters plan
Im going to live in hell forever " Fuck, shit, bitch, damn!"
The room i suffered in is now so fucking small
My blood is in piles on the floor and splashed on the walls
My skin and bones organized like being sold at the mall
Soft cries sofly chime
As I see blood shot eyes slowly start to shine
My mistakes are me and all mine
But to me and other people, that and I wasn't fine
I was always fucked up and never in my prime
I think it's time to look into those blood shot eyes and ask
   why
What happened, what causes a punk bitch to die
I sit as i look deep into those blood shot eyes
I found an image in those eyes "Fuck, I see it"
Man i fucked up and got into some shit
Died sofly by a stupid fit
Im damned to hell in my own darkness and blood
No one cares who i was even if i was a stud
Now im like your smoked ciggerette, no longer mama's little
  flower bud
I didn't die peacefully, oh I don't think so
My life ended from the bullet of the gun of 2low
A moment of silence as voices filled the room
Good, bad, and intense words spoken about my doom
To most im swept away quickly with a fucking broom
Some drink for me as they slowly pour some to steal
Steal those memories, shit this feels so real
Am I really dead, or is time standing still
Did he really have enough fucking guts to kill
The voices slowly change to a soft cry
I suddenly shoot up from my bed, where I first lie
Your dreams are your worst enemy, see I died


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Aquarius77 commented on For Real Dreams

09-09-2009

I'm new to this site nd ive read a couple of ur poems this one was really deep nd kinda scarey anyway keep up the good work.

rachelleann28 commented on For Real Dreams

09-03-2009

I really liked your poem!!! It was intense!!! But I love that about it..it was awesome!!! great work!!! -rachel-

Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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supermancdr’s Poems (22)

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For Real Dreams 2
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