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Universes
Posted Monday, February 26, 2024
3mo
INTJ
Taurus
Artistic Unknown
What's a life if you're not truly living, What's a fight if there's no hope of winning, What's goodbye when our time has limits, What's a mind sentenced to repetition. Throughout my life I've always known I was different, The girls and guys were always quick to mention, Ever since I could write I've always wanted someone to listen, As birthdays pass by I've realized my hopes and wishes, unrealistic. Why should he try when he's never been a Victor, Why should he grind to survive as a victim, Who is he but a prisoner to the system, The thoughts of his mind quickly labelled mental, Please tell me how it could really be that simple. Hardship and Poverty, if you could see what he perceives; Lonely isolation, no one to hear him when he screams. Financial frustration, one wrong move and he won't eat. Social deprivation, communication behind a screen. Relaxation, something he will likely never achieve. They wonder how he could just give up, Selfishness considers him the selfish one. As the days pass by his name no longer whispered, A photo in a frame fading out of existence. Is it wrong to seek out the improbable, even if it seems so very impossible, to become famously Audible, as if escape was even optional. Tell me, Does death open that door that's been forever closed, Bringing to life a once artistic unknown, Van Gogh, Picasso, Caravaggio, He questions as he grows cold. (edited)
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