My Poetry

Failed Recompense

I was wondering through the rain,

Tribulations of mind and body,

Driving me insane,

Incommensurate vitality; failed self-repair,

Wondering of the imminent despair,

Paralleling my mind with diffidence,

Perhaps, I thought I could recompense the evil deeds,

Yet all that was in store was a life of sequestration.

Nothing

Darkness falls, seamlessly, with dare,

That defining rhetoric causing such evil despair,

The tearing taking of compassionate care,

Love is absolutely nowhere,

They wonder what that hypocrisy ensnares,

Apathy in the form of superficial care.

That Mysterious Difference

She gazes out at the window, through the window,

Through those once rhapsodic eyes,

Thinking of what that place is like,

How she roamed it so freely,

Only to be brought to involuntary seclusion,

Wondering why those "big smart things" get to do what they want,

Is it what I am, or my lack of that thing, that thing that makes them care; why cannot I?