deepundergroundpoetry.com

You can't spell Mark Hammil without Arkham

This is the story of a
Part time recluse
Who was used
To feeling like
He had no use
And he would use that as an excuse
To smoke weed
Anytime that he felt
Like he did need
A little bit of encouragement
Something
Anything
To help him
Get through the next day
He would get up
And play games
He started to think
His life was a little bit of a waste
But at the end of the day
It was probably ok

The product of a fatherless generation
Built up on Thundercats cartoons
And family separation
He spends his whole life
Dreaming
Waiting
Hoping
That whatever comes next
Will be a slight improvement
On his current situation
But it never is

He's tired of not knowing
What he's supposed to be doing with his life
He's tired of the routine
The confliction
The rejection
He would rather drown
Than ask his friends for help
So he writes about his depression
Then pretends it's about someone else

He didn't find a remedy
In his poetry
Doesn't find music therapeutic
He writes to punish himself for the past
Man I tell ya
He'd make a fucking wicked Catholic

He said he wouldn't commit suicide
As long as his mother was still alive
 He knows it would break her heart
To think that she couldn't provide
The best life for her own son
We'll sometimes life It ain't that simple
Things can get on top of you
Regardless of the people
Who love you
And hold you close
And wanna keep you strong
But sometimes life is
A little bit shit
And it's hard to find a reason to go on

He just wants to be able to breath again
To sleep again
To close his eyes at night
And actually dream again
Without the demons
Infesting his head

Instead
They're always there
Whenever he closes his eyes
So he looks up at the stars
As they start to populate the sky
And he lights another joint
Because it helps him to hide
From his own reality

You see
He regrets to much of his past
He dwells on the mistakes
He did make
And he thinks that it's too late
To move passed
This self made path
That he did create
For himself
Or at least that's how it always seems
Now he can't wait to close his eyes
And dream that final and eternal dream
Bridge818
Written by Bridge818
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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