The_Darkness_Insid
Poem Published
1st May 2024 3:33pm
1st May 2024 3:33pm
Sick
So sick of trying
Sick of the lying
Sick of the crying
Slowly dying
Sick of the fight
Sick of the night
Sick of the light
Not being alright
Sick of the fake
Sick of the ache
Sick of heartbreak
Being awake
Sick of the pain
Sick of the drain
Sick of my brain
Going insane
Sick of the day
Sick of the pay
Sick of decay
Not going away
Sick of giving
Sick of reliving
Sick of forgiving
This isnt living
Im sick of not having the will to live...
Sick of the lying
Sick of the crying
Slowly dying
Sick of the fight
Sick of the night
Sick of the light
Not being alright
Sick of the fake
Sick of the ache
Sick of heartbreak
Being awake
Sick of the pain
Sick of the drain
Sick of my brain
Going insane
Sick of the day
Sick of the pay
Sick of decay
Not going away
Sick of giving
Sick of reliving
Sick of forgiving
This isnt living
Im sick of not having the will to live...
#depression
#despair
#LifeStruggles
87 reads
6 Comments
The_Darkness_Insid
Poem Published
1st May 2024 3:33pm
1st May 2024 3:33pm
Sick
So sick of trying
Sick of the lying
Sick of the crying
Slowly dying
Sick of the fight
Sick of the night
Sick of the light
Not being alright
Sick of the fake
Sick of the ache
Sick of heartbreak
Being awake
Sick of the pain
Sick of the drain
Sick of my brain
Going insane
Sick of the day
Sick of the pay
Sick of decay
Not going away
Sick of giving
Sick of reliving
Sick of forgiving
This isnt living
Im sick of not having the will to live...
Sick of the lying
Sick of the crying
Slowly dying
Sick of the fight
Sick of the night
Sick of the light
Not being alright
Sick of the fake
Sick of the ache
Sick of heartbreak
Being awake
Sick of the pain
Sick of the drain
Sick of my brain
Going insane
Sick of the day
Sick of the pay
Sick of decay
Not going away
Sick of giving
Sick of reliving
Sick of forgiving
This isnt living
Im sick of not having the will to live...
#depression
#despair
#LifeStruggles
87 reads
6 Comments
The_Darkness_Insid
Poem Published
1st May 2024 3:33pm
1st May 2024 3:33pm
Sick
So sick of trying
Sick of the lying
Sick of the crying
Slowly dying
Sick of the fight
Sick of the night
Sick of the light
Not being alright
Sick of the fake
Sick of the ache
Sick of heartbreak
Being awake
Sick of the pain
Sick of the drain
Sick of my brain
Going insane
Sick of the day
Sick of the pay
Sick of decay
Not going away
Sick of giving
Sick of reliving
Sick of forgiving
This isnt living
Im sick of not having the will to live...
Sick of the lying
Sick of the crying
Slowly dying
Sick of the fight
Sick of the night
Sick of the light
Not being alright
Sick of the fake
Sick of the ache
Sick of heartbreak
Being awake
Sick of the pain
Sick of the drain
Sick of my brain
Going insane
Sick of the day
Sick of the pay
Sick of decay
Not going away
Sick of giving
Sick of reliving
Sick of forgiving
This isnt living
Im sick of not having the will to live...
#depression
#despair
#LifeStruggles
87 reads
6 Comments
Samnash
Sam Nash
Sam Nash
Poem Published
26th Apr 2024 8:47pm
26th Apr 2024 8:47pm
I never left
I never left
To return
Laced
by your morning mist
I confess
I keep your picture
in a frame
To touch
To hold
before my evening rest
I weep
in the shade of the day
I climax
on the Xanadu railroad
Longing for our love chase
Be gentle
Rescue me
From my death
Send me a note
In a bottle of coke
You can never know
How you used
To make me come
Before the leaving
Before my death
As a poet
To return
Laced
by your morning mist
I confess
I keep your picture
in a frame
To touch
To hold
before my evening rest
I weep
in the shade of the day
I climax
on the Xanadu railroad
Longing for our love chase
Be gentle
Rescue me
From my death
Send me a note
In a bottle of coke
You can never know
How you used
To make me come
Before the leaving
Before my death
As a poet
#depression
#love
85 reads
1 Comment
Samnash
Sam Nash
Sam Nash
Poem Published
26th Apr 2024 8:47pm
26th Apr 2024 8:47pm
I never left
I never left
To return
Laced
by your morning mist
I confess
I keep your picture
in a frame
To touch
To hold
before my evening rest
I weep
in the shade of the day
I climax
on the Xanadu railroad
Longing for our love chase
Be gentle
Rescue me
From my death
Send me a note
In a bottle of coke
You can never know
How you used
To make me come
Before the leaving
Before my death
As a poet
To return
Laced
by your morning mist
I confess
I keep your picture
in a frame
To touch
To hold
before my evening rest
I weep
in the shade of the day
I climax
on the Xanadu railroad
Longing for our love chase
Be gentle
Rescue me
From my death
Send me a note
In a bottle of coke
You can never know
How you used
To make me come
Before the leaving
Before my death
As a poet
#depression
#love
85 reads
1 Comment
poeticdelight
Poem Published
17th Apr 2024 6:59pm
17th Apr 2024 6:59pm
Between Sacred and Profane
i did mean to make you spill
If you are hurt, then you'll heal
Epicurean is a devilish will
There is too much left to enjoy
Away from flesh, lust and pill
What doesn't kill you
Gives you good health
what doesn't hurt you
Drags you in more filth
Spare false words
To a stormy day
And sow today
you shall reap someday
Leave your complains
On your dusty shelf
And be a man for once
The a stoic wolf, dies
Don't pity on your self
...
If you are hurt, then you'll heal
Epicurean is a devilish will
There is too much left to enjoy
Away from flesh, lust and pill
What doesn't kill you
Gives you good health
what doesn't hurt you
Drags you in more filth
Spare false words
To a stormy day
And sow today
you shall reap someday
Leave your complains
On your dusty shelf
And be a man for once
The a stoic wolf, dies
Don't pity on your self
...
#depression
#illness
#SelfHarm
70 reads
0 Comments
poeticdelight
Poem Published
17th Apr 2024 6:59pm
17th Apr 2024 6:59pm
Between Sacred and Profane
i did mean to make you spill
If you are hurt, then you'll heal
Epicurean is a devilish will
There is too much left to enjoy
Away from flesh, lust and pill
What doesn't kill you
Gives you good health
what doesn't hurt you
Drags you in more filth
Spare false words
To a stormy day
And sow today
you shall reap someday
Leave your complains
On your dusty shelf
And be a man for once
The a stoic wolf, dies
Don't pity on your self
...
If you are hurt, then you'll heal
Epicurean is a devilish will
There is too much left to enjoy
Away from flesh, lust and pill
What doesn't kill you
Gives you good health
what doesn't hurt you
Drags you in more filth
Spare false words
To a stormy day
And sow today
you shall reap someday
Leave your complains
On your dusty shelf
And be a man for once
The a stoic wolf, dies
Don't pity on your self
...
#depression
#illness
#SelfHarm
70 reads
0 Comments
poeticdelight
Poem Published
17th Apr 2024 6:59pm
17th Apr 2024 6:59pm
Between Sacred and Profane
i did mean to make you spill
If you are hurt, then you'll heal
Epicurean is a devilish will
There is too much left to enjoy
Away from flesh, lust and pill
What doesn't kill you
Gives you good health
what doesn't hurt you
Drags you in more filth
Spare false words
To a stormy day
And sow today
you shall reap someday
Leave your complains
On your dusty shelf
And be a man for once
The a stoic wolf, dies
Don't pity on your self
...
If you are hurt, then you'll heal
Epicurean is a devilish will
There is too much left to enjoy
Away from flesh, lust and pill
What doesn't kill you
Gives you good health
what doesn't hurt you
Drags you in more filth
Spare false words
To a stormy day
And sow today
you shall reap someday
Leave your complains
On your dusty shelf
And be a man for once
The a stoic wolf, dies
Don't pity on your self
...
#depression
#illness
#SelfHarm
70 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
25th Sep 2023 5:39am
25th Sep 2023 5:39am
Male Tears
I haven’t processed half of what I should.
The constant state of man is such:
we shed tears in the dark, as understood
at five or so that even death is much
preferable to girlishness,
or what’s perceived as such.
We wander in the deadly wilderness
whose spirit quests were forced by other men;
the system justified, even while it kills.
We strip the song from out the wren,
the boys from out the men.
And pack the hearts in stone that chills.
And so do male tears collect, in clay fleshpots
in silence stored, inscribed...
The constant state of man is such:
we shed tears in the dark, as understood
at five or so that even death is much
preferable to girlishness,
or what’s perceived as such.
We wander in the deadly wilderness
whose spirit quests were forced by other men;
the system justified, even while it kills.
We strip the song from out the wren,
the boys from out the men.
And pack the hearts in stone that chills.
And so do male tears collect, in clay fleshpots
in silence stored, inscribed...
#sadness
#depression
#LifeStruggles #masculinity
#LifeStruggles #masculinity
167 reads
5 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
25th Sep 2023 5:39am
25th Sep 2023 5:39am
Male Tears
I haven’t processed half of what I should.
The constant state of man is such:
we shed tears in the dark, as understood
at five or so that even death is much
preferable to girlishness,
or what’s perceived as such.
We wander in the deadly wilderness
whose spirit quests were forced by other men;
the system justified, even while it kills.
We strip the song from out the wren,
the boys from out the men.
And pack the hearts in stone that chills.
And so do male tears collect, in clay fleshpots
in silence stored, inscribed...
The constant state of man is such:
we shed tears in the dark, as understood
at five or so that even death is much
preferable to girlishness,
or what’s perceived as such.
We wander in the deadly wilderness
whose spirit quests were forced by other men;
the system justified, even while it kills.
We strip the song from out the wren,
the boys from out the men.
And pack the hearts in stone that chills.
And so do male tears collect, in clay fleshpots
in silence stored, inscribed...
#sadness
#depression
#LifeStruggles #masculinity
#LifeStruggles #masculinity
167 reads
5 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
25th Sep 2023 5:39am
25th Sep 2023 5:39am
Male Tears
I haven’t processed half of what I should.
The constant state of man is such:
we shed tears in the dark, as understood
at five or so that even death is much
preferable to girlishness,
or what’s perceived as such.
We wander in the deadly wilderness
whose spirit quests were forced by other men;
the system justified, even while it kills.
We strip the song from out the wren,
the boys from out the men.
And pack the hearts in stone that chills.
And so do male tears collect, in clay fleshpots
in silence stored, inscribed...
The constant state of man is such:
we shed tears in the dark, as understood
at five or so that even death is much
preferable to girlishness,
or what’s perceived as such.
We wander in the deadly wilderness
whose spirit quests were forced by other men;
the system justified, even while it kills.
We strip the song from out the wren,
the boys from out the men.
And pack the hearts in stone that chills.
And so do male tears collect, in clay fleshpots
in silence stored, inscribed...
#sadness
#depression
#LifeStruggles #masculinity
#LifeStruggles #masculinity
167 reads
5 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
25th Sep 2023 5:39am
25th Sep 2023 5:39am
Male Tears
I haven’t processed half of what I should.
The constant state of man is such:
we shed tears in the dark, as understood
at five or so that even death is much
preferable to girlishness,
or what’s perceived as such.
We wander in the deadly wilderness
whose spirit quests were forced by other men;
the system justified, even while it kills.
We strip the song from out the wren,
the boys from out the men.
And pack the hearts in stone that chills.
And so do male tears collect, in clay fleshpots
in silence stored, inscribed...
The constant state of man is such:
we shed tears in the dark, as understood
at five or so that even death is much
preferable to girlishness,
or what’s perceived as such.
We wander in the deadly wilderness
whose spirit quests were forced by other men;
the system justified, even while it kills.
We strip the song from out the wren,
the boys from out the men.
And pack the hearts in stone that chills.
And so do male tears collect, in clay fleshpots
in silence stored, inscribed...
#sadness
#depression
#LifeStruggles #masculinity
#LifeStruggles #masculinity
167 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Depression Published by Members Recently Online
