I feel like posting a little bit of my poetry. This one is about the usage of others. When someone is reaching out to you and you feel they are obligated to do so for some reason or other, and you keep draining their generosity without consideration of how detrimental it can be to their own priorities. Well, here it is. There is a part of me That wants to help. Another voice whispers, Lets just suffer. I look upon the graves; One is my own, The other one is yours. Mine is mirror imagery. Placed in the dirt is Myself sleeping peacefully. Where are you my love; Next to I, buried deeply. Ill sort it all out soon; Digging for hours Just to fill my own pit... This transference. A problem will be solved For the selfish. Pity causes rotting, But not for the self righteous. Could you just survive Without having to fight this Being buried alive; Im being buried deeply.
Posted on: Thu, 15 Jan 2015 22:41:55 +0000
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