Old Sweater

Credits to goodtherapy.org
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You’re an old sweater
I wear in any weather–
the one I keep in the
far side of my dresser.

The one I always grab
and let my self wrap
with your sultry scent—
feeling myself being trap.

You keep me safe and warm
in the middle of this storm,
I hugged around the wool,
and I feel no any harm.

You may be an old sweater
but I feel so much safer,
You may be torn and worn out,
but I wouldn’t trade for any other


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Poetry – Hell Of A Day

Running through the morning sun
we fall in line, ready to run
as the gates open they come undone
it’s every man for himself
even when you cry for help,
until you’re the only one left.
No one to save you from the chaos
that you started in your mind— you lost.
By your own doing, the game was tossed
and what did it cost?
The people you loved the most.


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Lost Writings | 09 – The Monsters

THE MONSTERS

The monsters under our beds are the harsh truths about the world,
lurking in the silence while we’re unaware of their presence.
Until the night comes and they enter our innocent minds,
infesting it with wisdom that is better off not knowing.


I wrote a bunch of poetry back in 2017, it was all over the place. So, I finally retrieved it from my old broken laptop and some were from my old journal pages that I may have forgotten about.


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Poetry – Am I In Control?

I did not ask to be here.
I did not ask to struggle.
My life had not been my own.
I was born to follow a system.

A terrible one setting me to fail,
going through hoops of fire
waiting for the flame to catch me
like woods of branches and stems.

I did not ask to be here
but I am striving to get by.
I dream of a wondeful life
designed by me and not them.


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Have you ever felt like you’re not in total control of your life? No matter how hard you try to break away from the society’s standards, you kind of just end up being a part of it?


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Lost Writings | 08 – Time-Filler

TIME-FILLER

Between life and death, there we are with our borrowed time that we use to fill up the days of our existence in this world. And if everything we do is just a time-filler does it matter what we do with the time that we have, that is only going to be taken away in the end? Or it’s only borrowed so we should make the most out of it instead?


I wrote a bunch of poetry back in 2017, it was all over the place. So, I finally retrieved it from my old broken laptop and some were from my old journal pages that I may have forgotten about.


For more Lost Writings click here

To view blog series done on this site click: FEATURED COLLECTIONS
Discover new blogs to follow and sign up as well to include your blog click: BLOG DIRECTORY
Share your mental health story click: SHARE YOUR STORY HERE


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