Dudes with Pens

April 8, 2006

black

sitting alone in this empty room
it feels like these four walls are closing in on me
and if you listen
hard enough
you can almost hear them whisper my secrets back
my soul is being stolen
by everyday wasted spent regretting the past
in this unsatisfying darkness
wishing I could take back the words I never said
and these cold floors hold no comfort to my burdening concerns
my works are so known unspoken
that I began to wonder if my voice is still exsistent
but there are
no more tears to shed.
no more promises to forget.
no more hearts to break.

-Freda

To the top

Reach the top! Only the top!
My ambition pushes me
My parents pressure me
All this drives me to the top
Eventually

Alas! I did it! I feel pride.
I AM the top!
My parents love me
Their huge smile for me
But I keep questioning
Am I doing this all for me?

Oh, I see another winner
From across the world
Is he better than me?
Is he smarter than me?
Could I really be lost?

Oh, dear. Is this really the top?
'Gotta be the best, gotta work harder!'
My brain pumps like a machine
I must be perfect

Wait wait
What is happening to me?
I'm loosing my thoughts
My vision is blurred
My hards tremble
I am out of control

What about tomorrow,
Would it be miserable like this?

-Katelyn Y

posted by dudeswithpens @ 4:43 p.m.