Posted in Memories, poetry, Therapy

Bewildered Existance

This is not intended to be a NEGATIVE poem

Its is merely coming from a place of love……

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A natural observer

Sitting on a bench beside

A brick wall

Strangers passing by

Different colors

Different ideas

It’s who we are

Music dances in the head

No one is the same really

But everyone plays the game

Life is very complicated

There’s no easy way to do it

Not everyone wins in the end

Everyone separates themselves

Getting into their own worlds

Of confusion

To try and figure it out

What is the answer to life?

Or is life even asking questions?

Why do we follow routine?

A course laid down

By the generations before us

Is it safe to feel secure

And have we forgotten about our spirits?

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Things keep getting complicated

We work hard to make things difficult

Destroying land to build chaos

To educate our children devastation

How often is the world silent

With it’s overcrowded streets?

We took our energy and created machinery

The days keep getting shorter

With all this mass destruction

Seems like there’s no time to breath

Build clean energy all around

People need to know one another

To love the earth

To remove their hate

To increase their positive flow of energy

People should appreciate

What’s around them already

Talk of revolution

In this different era

A rebellion against conformity

A resistance towards regulation

A generation brainwashed

Cannot breath

A rat race towards success

Thought control

The minds we know

It must come to an end

Chaos swims throughout the land

An understanding must be explained

Bursting are the words

The thoughts

Which tell of planned deaths

A dying America is what’s foreseen

A negative force

Unnoticed by most

It’s destroying happiness

Something which apparently

This nation was founded on

So tired of the world observed

Divided by hatred, opinions and jealousy

What is the goal of humanity?

To be some place where one can think

Believe in examining your feelings

Why is success measured in such materialistic ways?

Eventually the path doesn’t feel so right

Eventually you just want time to figure your life out

Growing weary racing towards the sun

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Author:

Writer, Poet and Music geek

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