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I look at life with a disturbed vision portrayed through my eyes.
Once lead to believe when I grow up I can conquer the impossible;
Now with everyday I grow I’m finding that more impossible to believe.
My whole life I lived as others told me how to do so, without question.
Now I question life, ethics and morals I was taught, I should believe.
More I start to question myself; the more I start to question others.
What are beliefs besides thoughts imbedded so deep, they seem infallible?
What good is it for man to believe he can accomplish anything, if no opportunity exists?
Songs with no listeners, books without readers, and poems with no poets: tell me the use.
So then let me ask you, if there is no demand for what I have to offer: what is the use?
I’m stuck asking, repeating the same questions that I still have no answers for.
I feel the anxiety from the constant pressures of life eats at what’s left of my will power.
I struggle with the concept of change as I am in search still for my fountain.
I feel trickles of hope on Sunday sun showers as I embrace the falling rain.
Such small hope exists but instills a deep reason why I continue to live.
My perspective is one large ••••••••• joke after another; but behind that.... look.
__________________
I define myself as unusual because I do what I think is right.
I feel that there's a beautiful inspiration of wisdom waiting to evolve itself into it's full natural state in which it deserves to flourish but constantly ignoring the right decision to make too to continue this world of routine of struggle with my self only to believe in self worth
Some things are better unsaid; so I write them instead
http://www.myspace.com/lewddog
Last edited by lewdDog; 04-25-2007 at 04:10 AM.
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