Sometimes,
I remember this…
This thing
We do
That sometimes feels
Like an infinite,
Never ending dream
doesn’t have proper endings,
Certainly not satisfied ones,
It goes far from a simple,
Little storyline,
Closer to an itchy,
Tangled mess
That there is no main character,
No villain,
No happily ever after.
This thing.
It has names,
Like growing up,
Or being independent,
In most cases,
Its called life
And the most wicked thing is,
It hits like a blow
To the chest;
Sharp and jolting
quick and painful
Deserted alleys shrouded in dark,
Flickering lamps and a landscape stark.
Where should he go in such a night?
When there's not a star to guide him light.
The wind bewails and mourns again,
Walked as He, through the empty lane.
His soul revealed bare as the night undressed,
All dreadful memories came out pressed.
Smothering, he rushed in vain
Wait, the shadows said I'll come again
To haunt you every single night
When there's not a soul in sight.
He promised to be the boy's companion,
Ending all claims
As to the falsity of a forever!
I notice what I desire to see,
sometimes it's the void and not the whole.
Other days it is hard to decree,
what I glimpse as I look through the hole.
~Johnnymac
"It's 5 am in the morning,
And I just can't stop thinking,
As I wait here, my anxiety continues to build up,
And the more I just sit and think, it's just gets even more tough,
Thinking about the decisions I've made, and continue to make,
That have lead, or will only lead to more pain and heartbreak,
I've tried thinking positive, and holding out hope,
Because it's the only I know how to cope,
But lately, doing that even feels like it's not enough,
For it feels like the whole world is watching me, and screaming at me to give up,
But I continue to move forward, and fight, every single battle of every single day anyway,
Even it doesn't help with taking the pain away,
Maybe there is some hope, in this little heart and mind of mine,
But that hope slowly fades away, with the passage of time,
And I guess at this point, all I can really do is to prepare myself, for what's coming soon,
Which is either my breakthrough to success, or my enevitable doom,"
- Wallace Shane
Why are humans so,
Pessimistic and rude.
Can't get out of it...
Stress creates a picture of sadness,
Taking away the smile and gladness.
I am almost to an end;
I feel so exhausted and empty.
My heart wants to forget;
I want to take a rest.
Fortunate are those who lay in the fields of asphodels;
For, they never see.
For, they never feel;
The chaos of life.
When you find comfort in death;
It seeks you to forget the bitterness of life.
The new life in death is calling;
I am, I am coming..
Because I am almost to an end!
Corona has...
conquered
hearts of
people.
And
those,
with
pessi-
mistic
thoughts are
gonna conceal...
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
their While, people
Parts with opti- mistic
With thoughts are gonna
Gloves move around
and with self-assurance,
Masks faith and
to per- hope to
form regain
their their lock-
tasks. down loss.
2-5-2020
~DEEPA~
Disclaimer: Read continuously as C-19
(start with C,move on to 1 and then 9).
There is nothing I would not do to assuage
all in you slipping deprived and love awry.
I focus my wishes to diminish your anguish,
to remind you of our perfect designed kisses;
their puckery allure secured our lover’s map
and tapped our wants to ever stay like that.
As a thief, your pessimism slowly robs all
that only tomorrow’s motive may absolve.
Please think of time's appetency to prove
atrocious growls and fussy scowls reduce
to absolutely no substantially lived truth.
I want more romantic years of auspicious
sunrises that entwine you with optimistic.
It Wants Me Broken
like shattered glass
Living in the darkness
of an unforgotten past
Sadness and Sorrow
etched upon my face
My shoulders sagging
every step misplaced
Lost with no Direction
blinded by my own fear
Screaming inside my head
no one else can hear
The Silence of my secrets
has finally beat me down
The world has become a circus,
and I'm it's sadist clown
Whilst the pessimist persists
to resist the positive...
The optimist insists
to dismiss the negative.
People who want misery
will find it in everything
An angel becomes the devil
The flower wilts
A cloud blocks the shining sun
Angry people pick fights with you
pretending it's themselves
Don't be your own
Worst
Enemy.
I am a liberal conservative
who is confident when nervous.
Living as a pessimistic optimist,
I imagine what the worst is
only to quickly dismiss this.
As a depressed, joyous person
my moods are rarely self-chosen.
My dumbness is quite intelligent
and both are often equally lent
to my love I freely see spent.
Fragile coats all my strength.
So shy is my boldness length
it forms soft iron clad links.
I love to both dance and sing,
but have no rhythm or tune zing.
My content is being domestic,
but I have lived life on the brink
causing my calmness to be hectic.
I make serious, snap decisions
within many days of quickness.
My passionate love of mankind
equally hates society’s bind.
I dislike things modern and new,
though current kitchens are cool
There are many, well lots, I have bent,
but the world surely does need rules.
I dream of life in the eighteen-hundreds,
a fantasy including modern plumbing.
On and on my contradictions go;
like a seesaw I was made to be so,
well, maybe, see – I don’t really know -
maybe my stride was meant to be a slide.
We hate one another.
We can't get together.
We know it's better to be friends,
But we just don't even bother.
Our turmoil is so intense.
It's at the end of our tether.
All the King's Horses
And all the King's Men
Couldn't get us together.
Oh, no, it's over. Why bother?
If it wasn't for the pessimist
What would the optimist do
They'd have no earthly idea
What was needed to pull through
Or the gravity of the situation
And how to handle it best
Without the negative of the pessimist
What would fill the optimists head
Without the doom and gloom of the pessimist
Positive would be a lost cause
My best guess is that the optimist
Needs the pessimist after all
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