Comfort is not the cure
Sometimes I’d prefer to pollute my thoughts Than face the silence of existence The noise is too deep Too corrosive, burning away the wall that I’ve built All is questioned, and the responsibility becomes too much to bear Too much weight, too little time, too many thoughts, no clear line Do you know how many poems I’ve thrown away? How many ideas I’ve suppressed Suffocating with the creations of others, it’s easier this way To remain in safety, a far distance away If it’s all mine too bear, I promise I will I’ll grow, face my fears Fight the demons, conquer the years Time is precious, I know this now Everyday, every hour, conquering the weakness that is innate No excuses, only uses Use my hands, and fill my mind Take my hand, and claim what’s mine