I Write Poetry
A river flows one way,
Blood flows many,
Water is one,
People are many,
People hide truth,
Yet people hold true,
I am nothing,
Yet I’m something,
Of importance,
Of disruption,
Many ask questions,
Most of whom is purpose,
Blood is thick,
Most do not change,
Yet there are some of whom are a secret,
Those who don't talk,
Those of whom do,
This is a change that most do not do,
Starts with a night of weirdness,
Then a day of confusion,
Into weeks of alters,
To months of insanity,
No one talks it's been half a year,
Now he questions what is near,
He see's at night,
He sees what most do not see,
He feels others,
He feels altered from himself,
He thinks like an animal,
Runs full flight,
His emotions improved,
Into something of night,
Still he questions every night,
Not who I am,
But now what I am,
He looks in the mirror,
Into his eyes,
Their still the same,
But something is dwelling deep within thee inside,
He has lost a lot of weight,
Now is gaining some back,
He feels alone,
Like an outcast,
The people he was like he now dislikes,
For he see's they are a crime of mistakes,
His thinking is more of questions then of views,
Yet he pleads for answers,
Yet no one talks back,
Everyday he looks in the mirror,
Everyday he thinks of himself,
And now his blood is turning him astray,
No one will tell him,
Everyone doubts him,
Still he searches for answers,
And still none are found,
This is a message to those of change,
It's not to those of whom that want change,
This is torture of life itself,
It is not what everyone shouts,
You think it is great,
Well that’s a mistake,
Look at this poems,
You will see what's at stake,
Be who you are,
Do not wish change,
This blood you have does not change yours is pure and doesn't change,
Mine is a mix and is not all that great,
You have seen my words,
You see my fate,
This is a life you cannot mistake,
Blood is thick,
And blood is great,
But to some blood it is rich,
To those of fate,
It is of birth something you cannot escape,
This blood you see now is a river of rich and bad taste,
It is thee blood of the cursed,
thee blood of the blessed,
This is insanity in its finest make.
Blood flows many,
Water is one,
People are many,
People hide truth,
Yet people hold true,
I am nothing,
Yet I’m something,
Of importance,
Of disruption,
Many ask questions,
Most of whom is purpose,
Blood is thick,
Most do not change,
Yet there are some of whom are a secret,
Those who don't talk,
Those of whom do,
This is a change that most do not do,
Starts with a night of weirdness,
Then a day of confusion,
Into weeks of alters,
To months of insanity,
No one talks it's been half a year,
Now he questions what is near,
He see's at night,
He sees what most do not see,
He feels others,
He feels altered from himself,
He thinks like an animal,
Runs full flight,
His emotions improved,
Into something of night,
Still he questions every night,
Not who I am,
But now what I am,
He looks in the mirror,
Into his eyes,
Their still the same,
But something is dwelling deep within thee inside,
He has lost a lot of weight,
Now is gaining some back,
He feels alone,
Like an outcast,
The people he was like he now dislikes,
For he see's they are a crime of mistakes,
His thinking is more of questions then of views,
Yet he pleads for answers,
Yet no one talks back,
Everyday he looks in the mirror,
Everyday he thinks of himself,
And now his blood is turning him astray,
No one will tell him,
Everyone doubts him,
Still he searches for answers,
And still none are found,
This is a message to those of change,
It's not to those of whom that want change,
This is torture of life itself,
It is not what everyone shouts,
You think it is great,
Well that’s a mistake,
Look at this poems,
You will see what's at stake,
Be who you are,
Do not wish change,
This blood you have does not change yours is pure and doesn't change,
Mine is a mix and is not all that great,
You have seen my words,
You see my fate,
This is a life you cannot mistake,
Blood is thick,
And blood is great,
But to some blood it is rich,
To those of fate,
It is of birth something you cannot escape,
This blood you see now is a river of rich and bad taste,
It is thee blood of the cursed,
thee blood of the blessed,
This is insanity in its finest make.
By:
strivexwolf
Age:
18-21
,
Male
