Inner Struggle, Awaken Soul

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"Take every day as the worth you put on display"

Inner Struggle, Awaken Soul

Forbidden to ask for your abundance of imagery
The eyes they do wander into the doors of your sympathy
Can glimpse, make it full, the growls all through the night
Will eyes vast approach, as my appetite dwindles
May I stumble upon a gift for my symptoms

Is what holds in such eyes so abundant in nature
Real worth in another’s, makes myself look as criminal
Abound by the calls within my own premises
Needless to say, such calls weakens my remembrance

Through the treacherous lies, to the lavish escapes
The food which appears at no moments last haste
Truth to be held by the end of one’s life
Though the ones which surround me, as I sleep through the night
They despair and discuss and they plead and they gasp

Which is the opponent of my life’s misfortunate acts
To be held by others in an unreasonable scale
For weight to increase each time my reason is fought
Which line is to break for if they all to revolt
As each moment I wait for the time to stop ticking

This life despite its unmanaged belongings, conceive me
individual item swept away in an instance, believe me
I look around with worthless eyes, now resistance
As each items worth becomes worthless, surrounds me
Understanding now, to their hatred absorbs; as I am quite ready                  I still want to have, need, care, feel, above them all
At least now I can say they treat me just the same                             One less individual which they have to just blame

Life’s memorable acquaintance, as you first open your vision, does blind you Can be seen as your last, as you close them, diminishing light indulges   What were once important, matters less through ones sight                    For each glance makes a difference, all through one’s life                            To give and receive and to punish for pettiness                                     To act on ones nerves, as to beg for remembrance                                 Is to say what and why did those acts become my moniker                      As my life fades away, far away as bad memory                                                                                                                
                                                                                                  
                                                                               

 



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If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

ukraine’s Poems (21)

Title Comments
Title Comments
misconception 0
Morning Break 0
Relation ships 0
Father's Misconception 1
Waking Up 1
Guidance Through Kin 0
Inner Struggle, Awaken Soul 0
Promises Lost 0
Hey You 0
Waves 0
American Dream 0
Taken To Soon 1
Her Glance 0
Seize the Day 0
Through the Shadow 0
Tragedy 0
Working Man 1
Chance 0
Down and Around 0
Time 0
Tragic Undecided 0