deepundergroundpoetry.com
Through a Dead Man’s Eyes
He was tired of the wicked
Tired of always being played as the villain
Tired of looking to the skies for meaning
Tired of the stupid and greedy
Tired of the fakest friends
Tired of the ongoing global end
Tired of his uncaring family
Tired of all those who walked passed him while he was clearly in pain
A man that can take in love
But doesn’t seem capable of giving any
So tell me what’s worse,
the man or his curse?
Walking around wishing for sweet death
Jumbling words trapped in his head,
from the girl he wants, she’s reaching out
But he’s too afraid of losing
Lost like he lost before
He never planned on growing old
Just living young then die as so
With no sight of self worth
Short changed, when he was looking for all or nothing
Guess it’s just nothing then
Depressant of his own living
Broken, looking toward knives to take his life
But he can’t, something’s holding him back
It’s the tears falling that cover the blade
Every drop is another year
Another person lost or forgotten
Bleeding from the depths of his blacken heart
Looking back,
he sees himself being shot down as just another loser
If he only had the confidence,
to show the people how impotent he was
Or at least the one girl he longed for so bad
But it was always about seeking the end to him
And not about the important parts of his life
So it happens, he finally builds up the courage
The scars are now visible
Oh so bloody real
Laying in an empty tub
Looking up as he slowly fades
Waiting to meet his maker
Thinking what if he doesn’t die?
What if there’s more to this life he’s missing?
But this isn’t your story, is it?
No, it’s of a dead man’s body trapped in a box covered in dirt
You died
Guess the knife was convincing enough
Fitting how your hopeful love would find your body the next day
Her cries stopped time itself; for you, I hope you know…
From that moment on, I took your spirit
You no longer deserved it
And found that deep rage you suffered so long from
Made it mine, owned it and embraced it
Knowing if I can’t view the world through a dead man’s eyes
How can I ever appreciate this life?
Tired of always being played as the villain
Tired of looking to the skies for meaning
Tired of the stupid and greedy
Tired of the fakest friends
Tired of the ongoing global end
Tired of his uncaring family
Tired of all those who walked passed him while he was clearly in pain
A man that can take in love
But doesn’t seem capable of giving any
So tell me what’s worse,
the man or his curse?
Walking around wishing for sweet death
Jumbling words trapped in his head,
from the girl he wants, she’s reaching out
But he’s too afraid of losing
Lost like he lost before
He never planned on growing old
Just living young then die as so
With no sight of self worth
Short changed, when he was looking for all or nothing
Guess it’s just nothing then
Depressant of his own living
Broken, looking toward knives to take his life
But he can’t, something’s holding him back
It’s the tears falling that cover the blade
Every drop is another year
Another person lost or forgotten
Bleeding from the depths of his blacken heart
Looking back,
he sees himself being shot down as just another loser
If he only had the confidence,
to show the people how impotent he was
Or at least the one girl he longed for so bad
But it was always about seeking the end to him
And not about the important parts of his life
So it happens, he finally builds up the courage
The scars are now visible
Oh so bloody real
Laying in an empty tub
Looking up as he slowly fades
Waiting to meet his maker
Thinking what if he doesn’t die?
What if there’s more to this life he’s missing?
But this isn’t your story, is it?
No, it’s of a dead man’s body trapped in a box covered in dirt
You died
Guess the knife was convincing enough
Fitting how your hopeful love would find your body the next day
Her cries stopped time itself; for you, I hope you know…
From that moment on, I took your spirit
You no longer deserved it
And found that deep rage you suffered so long from
Made it mine, owned it and embraced it
Knowing if I can’t view the world through a dead man’s eyes
How can I ever appreciate this life?
Published 1st May 2015
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1st May 2015 4:09pm
1st May 2015 4:15pm
Anonymous
1st May 2015 4:49pm
darkly beautiful ink, DC
1st May 2015 4:52pm
It's kind of a bit of a hard hit read for myself ^^
Like to get feelings out even if they are a bit dark :-)
Thanks for the read Miss Earth Child
Like to get feelings out even if they are a bit dark :-)
Thanks for the read Miss Earth Child
Anonymous
1st May 2015 4:54pm
Very enjoyable read. I love your dark ink and beautiful painting of words.
1st May 2015 4:56pm
1st May 2015 10:55pm
2nd May 2015 00:06am
