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Long Teenage Poems | Long Teenage Poetry

Long Teenage Poems. Below are the most popular long Teenage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Teenage poems by poem length and keyword.

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Long Poems
Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

The Sooner Recruit

Fifty years, boy and man, I’ve been a Sooners fan;
And watched thousands of recruits try to make my Sooners Team.
Often, I’ve enviously wondered what it must be like
To be a touted Sooners recruit, living out his dream.

He’d had a great career through high school;
Made good grades, was a football star, played baseball too.
Coach said college recruiters were watching closely;
So, he tried his very best to make his dream come true.

You see, he’d played on the L’il Sooners as a kid;
Started getting serious about the game when he was only eight
Played with older, bigger boys and practiced hard;
Always told his friends, “To be a Sooner, ya gotta play great”.

Oh yes, his parents raised a football player;
And, even more important, a Sooners fan;
But he wanted more, to be a Sooner,
To feel the glory raining down from the stands. 

Now, the Sooners’ Head Coach is in his living room.
“Son, you’ve got talent.  We think you fit our scheme.
We’re offering you a scholarship, an opportunity
To be an important member of our great Sooners Team”.

His mother smiles her biggest smile.
His father nods proudly and pats him on the knee.
“Lord knows, son, it’s a dream come true.
Go be the very best Sooner you can be”.

He walks into the locker room,
Not quite sure what to expect;
But sure that to play for the Sooners
He will first have to earn respect.

He looks each man straight in the eye - 
Other recruits, trainers, assistants, and every coach.
“Be proud, but respectful”, his mother had said;
Your character, more than your performance, must be above reproach”.

His handshake is firm and he smiles.
“Only one chance for a first impression”, his father had said;
"Always put yourself in positive light, on and off the field.
That’s what it will take to play for the mighty Big Red”.

He meets so many other recruits, each one a high school star.
He’s played against a few and knows they share his dream.
And, to a man, each knows before any chance for Glory,
He first must prove worthy to play for this Sooners Team.

He knows a few will fail to meet the coaches’ expectations.
For some, the scout team will be their fate.
Many will suit up, but rarely play.
Only the very best will ever dare to be great.

Coach says, “If every man learns and executes when called on,
Then this team, we Sooners, will win a lot of games;
But, win or lose, if you play hard and give your very best,
You’ll never have to hang your heads in shame”.

“But gentlemen, with or without you, this team will win.
Every season, the Sooners strive to win it All.
So, listen, work hard, and prepare yourselves.  Each game is war...
And you must be ready when Victory calls”.

Through grueling practices, he finds himself.
As he walks to class, his closest friends are aches and pains;
But, just the other day, Coach helped him up, smiled, and patted his helmet.
“You’re doin’ fine, son.  Keep pushin’.  Remember, no pain, no gain”.

He sees his name on the "open scrimmage" roster for the very first time.
It’s a moment he’ll never forget, another milestone in his dream.
He calls his Mom and Dad, knowing they’ll tell his family and his friends.
He hopes they’ll actually see him play, proof he’s made the Team.

As he suits up for the last pre-season open scrimmage,
He wonders if the coaches would really let a freshman play at all;
But Coach puts him in for eight plays against the first team;
He makes two great open-field tackles and intercepts the ball.

He barely hears the roar of the crowd, as the whole defense “gives him five”.
He’s so excited, he forgets to ask if he can keep that ball.
Fans are buzzing, “Did you see that hit”!?  “Who is that kid”!?
“Will he red shirt or will Coach let him play this fall”? 

He sees his name in the Sunday paper, hears it on local sports.
He’s happy, but he doesn’t let it go to his head.
He keeps his focus and uses it as motivation.
After all, he wants to start one day for the mighty Big Red.

Yes, we’ll hear more of this young recruit.
Perhaps, one day he’ll be the hero of the game.
A seasoned veteran, maybe All Conference or even All American,
Who’s tasted Victory many times and helped glorify the Sooners’ name.

Oh yes, there have been so many who’ve aspired;
But many fewer who’ve actually made our Sooners Team.
They are our heroes, each and every one;
For it’s through their accomplishments, we fans can live the dream.

Billy Vessels, Steve Owens, Billy Sims, and Jason White,
The Selmons, Little Joe, the Boz, Josh Heupel, and “Q”
They, and so many others, were once touted Sooners recruits;
Who set a higher mark and built the Tradition that is OU.

So, c’mon! c’mon! all you great young football players!
Dedicate your talents to OU’s Team and OU’s Fans.
Make Oklahoma’s Owen Field your Field of Dreams,
And feel the Glory raining down from the stands. 


Long poem by Therese Bacha | Details |

Punished

                            ~ Punished~
                        
One evening with her dad she met this man at a bar very
handsome well mannered visiting from England.
After a few visits she started feeling him approaching her 
with nice compliments.

His attention made her fall In love with him
For months he took her out running to the beach 
shouting out loud I love your body i love your eyes
you’ll never belong to nobody but me.
 
On a moonlight night he was holding her so tight 
kissing her lips caressing her tits expressing his 
desire to light up the fire that was burning in their
entire body and soul.

As he was her first this is what she thought at the 
beginning she was very reserved yet she liked the 
fire she was feeling they were new to her his kissing 
was sensuous he smelled lovely he was caressing her
hair while sitting on the sand she was so taken by her
thoughts suddenly she heard.

Oh my darling let me love you my way let me make you 
my woman without any delay I beg you to give up and 
stop the fight I am promising at the same time to marry 
you very soon I will ask your dad that you will become my 
wife next Sunday at soon.

She wanted to believe him her head was spinning her heart
was beating to the sounds of his powerful movements
she was reaching the sky so quickly sensations of ecstasy 
she was feeling with his compliments whispering his love 
to her out loud while she was dreaming of the marriage 
as being lifted up on a carriage listening to the horses 
tapping on the course to the hotel room where they will 
spend their honeymoon as she will become that bride 
at noon.

Before even her dreams were over she felt him suddenly 
role over and ran away with no delay she could not understand
why ? Why? Did he leave with no good-bye.

Not realizing she was undressed hurried to get dressed ran to look 
from side to side asking herself why did he hide he promised me 
to be his bride? even if she was yet a child.

She sat where they loved each other looking at the ocean maybe
he will come back he must he told her he is in love.

Already it was dark in a low voice having no choice she ran 
home straight to her room wiping her running tears and fears
covering her feet to feel some heat and fell asleep not to see
her dad as maybe tomorrow he will come back with an 
explanation to his act. 

Hoping not to be deceived and very soon to be relieved
when he ‘ll knock on their door and swipe her off her feet 
tell her dad to fix their marriage.

She waited for days and days but that day never came 
she knew then it was only a game and she`ll never see 
him again and will never be the same.
                          
That early morning she woke up before her dad to cheer up 
herself for him not to doubt she had maybe made a huge 
mistake.
Having her coffee she pulled the newspaper and screamed
Oh Oh the man she loved was an addicted rapist being 
searched from the Interpol in England, he had convinced 
everybody doctors and nurses that he was cured.

Continuing to read she read his history that he was battling 
addiction of raping teenagers for the past twenty years. Lived
most of the time in jail.
She cried and cried she was raped by an addicted rapist who
was never cured.
                             
She could not eat or drink not knowing what to think 
while running to the sink that’s when she found out 
but couldn’t shout that she was carrying a rapist child. 

Where are you? She thought you were honest
But you were only an ordinary man still battling
your addiction.

Forgive me Oh My God! Her dad
forgave her out of love to his innocent daughter.

She had to keep her child and trusted herself
to bring him up not like his father.
And she did her son became an international lawyer.

   Therese Bacha
      27/5/2013
Contest for PD....Any Poem Goes.


Long poem by Timothy Hicks | Details |

American Teen

With words alone they knock me off my feet
At class they push me around and call me freak
Should I do the same, sell drugs on the street,
Stoop to these filthy rats when I'm at my peak?
You were their beautiful make belief doll
Put on a smile now, but tired of these close calls
Every night you break down in the bathroom stall
Finding out this isn't what you wanted at all

Is it normal to feel worthless, a girl
With stubborn dreams?
I'm sorry for all the questions
But it's all new to me

Maybe I should do the same
Act like it's all just a game
Do what I want like a true American teen
Come home late from the party all battered and green
Lose myself to white powder
Watch as my insides grow sour
Ought'a screw it like a true American teen
Isn't that what everyone expects me to be?

Smoking stinky clouds to fill up the room
After persistently warning me not to
Now you drink to impress those at school
Two months ago you were happy being you
Passing me the pipe saying don't worry
As you hand me the poison so casually
I ask should I be trembling restlessly,
And just let the acidic demons run free?

Is it normal to feel like I'm choking,
Like I can't breathe?
I'm sorry for all the questions
But it's all new to me

Maybe I should do the same
Act like it's all just a game
Do what I want like a true American teen
Come home late from the party all battered and green
Lose myself to white powder
Watch as my insides grow sour
Ought'a screw it like a true American teen
Isn't that what everyone expects me to be?

Upchuck a river of green stomach waste
Slip 'n' slide until the floors thoroughly laced
Crushing all our high standards in disgrace
Getting a glimpse of our futures face to face
Knock me down cause I'm quiet and shy
Through every beating, I ask why me, why?
Cause I believe that tomorrow is nigh
Making me think I'm nobody pushed aside

It's tough when my own friends turn against me
Cause in this hazy room I refuse to breathe
Ten people tug at my shirt, should I leave?
I'm tempted to cave, tonight I feel so weak
It's funny how out of nowhere friends change
Telling me I should get with it and act my age
Live it up now then rot in a tight cage
Yeah, it's funny how out of nowhere friends change

Maybe I should do the same
Act like it's all just a game
Do what I want like a true American teen
Come home late from the party all battered and green
Lose myself to white powder
Watch as my insides grow sour
Ought'a screw it like a true American teen
Isn't that what everyone expects me to be?

Someday you'll awake and see the blue sky
A foolish old man barely even alive
Too high to remember all those black eyes
All those glorious years you just waved goodbye



NOTE: I often wonder what it might have been like to grow up in a normal high school, doing normal high school things. There's a part of me that wanted to experience it all... and another part of me is thankful I didn't have to.


Long poem by Jessica Arteaga | Details |

Jake Stanson Murray (Part two)

She kept laughing but more small and appropriate, and Jake just stood there, haunting at
the thought of speaking to her, grimacing at the idea of her realization that it wasn't
the scare that made him stutter, but just his own actual way of speech. The girl stood
there done with her enjoyment of laughter and observed this odd specimen of a brimming the
age teenage boy.

Not much of a talker are you?

He looked down trying to figure a way or say wishing a way the speech impediment would
not be announced. He saw her black and white converse shoes started to tap and his eyes
slowly rolled up to her gray tight covered legs, slowly rolled up to her black shirt with
the red colored word RIOT written to look like it was splattered, rolled up to her face; the
same neutral, not showing any emotion (except for when she laughed a moment ago) face.

He stared at her and began to open his mouth.

...um
hi...
my name is...
um...
Jake.

Wait
Did I just not stutter?

Jake tried to contain the excitement of achievement from adding to his expression, he
wanted to seem nonchalant, cause girls like guys that seem like they don't care, girls
think guys like that are cool, he thought. He moved his gaze back down to the floor as he
tried to speak once again.

no...
I didn't...
steal...
anything.

Jake's gazed moved back up as he finished his statement. The girls expression was still
the same just her eyes where a tad wider than usual.

Are you special or something?

Jake's face dropped. So excited of his successes of not stuttering, he failed to realized
that him concentrating so hard made him pronounce and announce things slowly.

O god! 
She thinks I'm mentally handicapped!

No-No-No
I-I-I not like that
I mean, there's nothing wr-wr-wr-wrong
with people li-li-li-like that-

Her faced had more color to it as she watched this older teenage oddity crumble with his
mouth and tumble with hands and stumble with his face. Jake stopped. Those two sentence
left behind him as the others that came made him fall. He looked down once again. He just
wanted to run out of there, which is what he was about to do until he felt two small hands
reach
up and rest onto his shoulders. He looked at the converses that were now on there tippy
toes, and roll back to the face that had dark eyes surrounded by purple eye shadow glisten
back at him. Confusion struck him for her face was amused as a smile emerged from her lips
as she began to speak.

Your a stuttering stanely! she squealed.


Long poem by Lexy Goodluck | Details |

Could It Be Love

Who has the ability to make me catch my breath, 
Increase my steady heartbeat, 
Send a wave of warmth deep into my core.
The answer is simple, you can. 
I’ve always had these strong steel walls built around my heart. 
A strong shield that no one has ever been able to break. 
Many have tried, as many will, but I held fast, I stood strong, forever afraid of getting hurt. 
Yet somehow you've managed to melt the metal wall, somehow you were able to break through.
Everyday more and more of that wall deteriorates,
Falls into a deep abyss of what could be.
I find myself more open with you.
I can express myself, share the depth of my feelings for you.
I find myself more secure, not only in what we have and your feelings for me, but also in myself.
I’ve never felt so good about who I am before. 
You bring out the best in me. 
With you, I endlessly want to be a better person. 
A person who feels worthy of you. 
I don’t feel like I’ve done enough good to have you in my life. 
It truly is the greatest gift to know you even remotely care about me.
I can’t even describe the affect you have on me.
Oh, how your laugh sends chills up my spine?
I don’t know what it is, but its the best laugh of anyone I know.
I absolutely love it when you look at me. 
Those pretty green eyes, man, at these moments life is incredible.
And the very few, short moments that you've touched me; playfully punching my arm 
or crossing my fingers to prove a point. 
Some of the best moments of my life. 
If I think of you while eating, I immediately lose my appetite.
If I think of you at all, a huge smile finds its way onto my face.
I think of you all day and clear into the night. 
I sometimes dream of you, ridiculous pointless dreams, but dreams no less. 
You have such a hold on me that I know without you somewhere in my messy, crazy life, I would have no life at all.
My friends make fun of me, say things about how I act, but they don’t understand how it feels to see you or just to be near you.
They don’t understand at all.
How can anyone feel so strongly about someone?
How can my life feel so complete with you or incomplete when you’re gone?
There’s such a thing called love, 
Such a thing so beautiful and pure its God’s only way of life for us. 
A way to better ourselves. 
Some might say what I’m feeling isn’t love itself, but why does it feel so much like it?
Why does it feel so real?
Better yet, why does it feel so perfect?
Not a tint of poisonous toxins within. 
So I ask, could it be love?


Long poem by Angel C | Details |

Remember

Do you remember how I spent every day pushing you away?
Do you remember how you used to open up to me forever and a day?
Do you remember how when we talked on the phone you wouldn’t say my name?
It was ‘Hey Beautiful?’ ‘Hey babyyyy?’ ‘Hey love?’ ‘I thought it was lame…

But do you remember how you made me talk to you almost every single day?
And do you remember how you constantly tried to make everything ok?
Or do you remember how you wouldn’t allow me to run you away?
So do you remember all of those nights where I would cry but never say?

I remember how you told me that I reminded you of your battered ex
I remember how you first told me that you loved me… not through text.
I remember how you woke up in the middle of the night and told me about your dream... nightmare?
You thought that I was asleep but no,  I was listening…I remember how you were unaware.

Can you remember how I was always terribly afraid to tell you things?
Can you remember how I cried? Laughed? Or the way I sing?
Can you remember how I you always accused me of playing you silly? 
Can you remember how I let you talk to my favorite little cuties?

I bet you don't remember how I waited for you so…
I bet you don't remember when I told you I loved you though…
I bet you don't remember when you said this wasn't gonna hurt
I bet you don’t remember that this is why I was constantly on alert…

I know you wouldn’t remember how I cried every night for two and a half weeks
I know you wouldn’t remember how I wrote you unsent letters…. Not with ink.
I know you wouldn’t remember how I pretended you never made me happy…
And I know you can’t remember how much it hurt… when you didn’t fight for me….

I expected it though so it’s okay… I promise… it’s alright.
I was steadily seeking out the day that you would be snatched up out of my life.
I don't really care so you can go and play with your little girlfriends... just go.
You didn't fight for me so don't come back now... stay out there in the cold.

Don't come back to me trying to say I forgot about you...
Because you're the one who left me so don't act like this is all new.
You think those unanswered texts and ignored calls are my fault?
Don't PUT IT ON ME when you're the one who should have fought.

But who chose not to...?
Edmond that was you.
You said you wanted to be my rock...
Boy please... You was all about that talk.

Telling me this... telling me that.
I'm so stupid I believed you'd react...
The way that you said you would...
and...
You didn't.


Long poem by Madison Marie | Details |

Her Masterpiece Is Her Story

Her paintbrush is a razor,
Her canvas, her wrists,
"I deserve the pain."
She shrugs and insists.

One day the brush will push down,
And it will cut so deep,
That this girl will fall
into an eternal sleep.

She doesn't remember how she started
What brought her interest to this,
How do you discover,
that cutting is your form of bliss?

No one would have guessed that she does it.
No one would have considered this one.
This girl is forever fighting a battle,
that she thinks the demons have won.

Her artwork is all over her,
Her beauty is on her thighs,
and if you look in her old trash,
you'll find her letters of goodbye.

Her masterpiece is quite disturbing,
Her masterpiece is a little gory,
Her artwork is her escape.
Let me tell you her story.

She compares herself to every person,
She is compared to each girl.
She thinks she's hideous,
And there's this boy that is her world.

She was bullied and picked on,
She was teased from head to toe,
Hard to believe that her best friend,
was her one and only foe.

Then later she disliked every little thing,
Her body, face and even her mind,
Soon she saw she was a failure,
and it was just in due time...

That this girl couldn't take it anymore
She'd decided she was done living this,
So one day she went home
and decided to end it.

Everyday for multiple days,
This girl would try to drown,
Hard to believe this girl at school,
never ever wore a frown.

Sometimes she'd just fall asleep crying,
Praying that she'd be enough,
Because she didn't want to leave her family.
She knew about their sweet love.

This girl found hope in small things eventually,
She soon would see this beautiful light,
and find a REAL best friend,
that helped her put up a fight.

Her masterpiece soon was leaving,
Her artwork was almost faded,
and it gave her a sick feeling,
the feeling of being jaded.

She found a boy that actually loved her,
And showed her love exists,
And this boy too had a masterpiece,
placed close to his wrists.

He related to her and she related to him.
She kissed his artwork and said he's not alone,
When she cut herself it hurt him,
Her masterpiece now wasn't just her own.

Her masterpiece effected others,
Her artwork wasn't just for herself,
She now had people, 
who saw her cries for help.

And then her family found out,
So then they saw the art too,
to them they were just scars,
To her they were the truth.

She's trying to be okay now,
She thinks she might survive,
Even though they didn't think
to take away the knives.


Long poem by Ana Jusino | Details |

The Truth That Was Hidden

I'm  sitting here in this room,
thinking to myself about the past.
How I had bloom...
though, it didn't last.

God, everyday I am lying.
Everyday I put on my mask.
I always end up crying
since no one dares to ask.

I stopped talking to my friends,
cut them all loose.
For this is the end,
and we all knew I would lose.

Everyone around me thinks I'm better.
since all they see are lies.
They should know better!
Even though I'm in disguise.

I put on my fake smile
and laugh along with everyone around me.
I think everyone is in denial
since they can't obviously see

They act like nothing happened.
like... I faked the whole incident.
They honestly don't know what happened,
or why I caused that incident.

They believe that I was never "broken"
just that I wanted attention.
I should have never spoken
and give them my full attention.

No one knows I've been skipping my pills,
everyone thinks I take them.
Maybe I'm saving them for the kill?
Who knows what I plan to do with them.

I throw up everyday,
only because I've grown used to it.
No one understands my ways
or why I keep quiet.

Sometimes, when I'm alone
and I see something I could use to harm myself.
I check to make sure I'm on my own
and start to look at myself.

First, I cry...because I oh so much hate my body.
Then, I hurt myself.
Proving that I am nobody.
and since I'm alone, and with no one else

I continue doing this 
until I see a drop of blood,
then it feels like bliss.
I continue sometimes, craving the blood.

Then when it gets too much,
I sit down
thinking... no one knows I do such
if they did...would they let me drown?

I bet they would.
Since everyone I have come to love, 
leaves me..just like they should.
because I'm nothing from above.

You might think I'm a blessing.
ha, I'm a curse.
I bet you were messing,
and just tried to keep it from getting worse.

but let me get this straight,
nothing you say or do,
will get me to leave this gate.
For this gate is where I was left to

be on my own.
to forget about help.
I was always alone,
never having anyone's help.

Just let me be,
I don't need your sympathy.
Can't you see?
It doesn't matter to me!

I'd rather have everyone hate me
than have you all pretend
because believe it or not, I can see
through all your acts that should come to an end.

You aren't my friend,
so leave me now.
This my end,
you mustn't know how.

I will write back soon,
for this is my only comfort.
I only shall come at the time of the moon,
for that is my hour of comfort.


Long poem by Sabina Nicole | Details |

The Boy at the Park contest

I met a teenage boy last night
He inspired me to write
His words penetrated my soul
He made me evaluate my purpose and goal
He asked me if God was real
Then why does his mom go out at night and steal
Why was his brother murdered at eighteen
Why is his biological father a crack fiend
Why are children in this world starving everyday
Why does God not here him when he prays
Why are so many people living without a home
Why does he always feel so alone
Why did he have to grow up in the hood
Why is his whole generation misunderstood
Why do babies die at birth
Why can’t he have any worth
Why did his friends backstab him tonight to commit a crime
Why is he alive is he just wasting his time
Why are Americans never satisfied
Why are Christians dying for their religious love and pride
Why was slavery allowed for so long
Why are so many people living wrong
Why do many teenage mothers now exist
Why are many children slitting their writs
Why are drugs so easy to find
Why does the government keep us blind
Why is there cancer and all types of disease
“Ms. Help me understand all this please”
I looked over at this boy while tears dripped off my face
My friend this world I admit is one crazy place
Many things God never wanted for the human race
But we are blessed to have his Amazing Grace
His love will never go away
Yet, many live in disarray
God gave us all free will
At this point his eyes started to spill
We were created with choices
we all have our own voices
Angels were created to do whatever God may say
Humans have the option to disobey
One day we will fully understand
God’s original master plan
Someday we will have the privilege to see
What God intended life to be
One day evil will forever be locked away
Many will have to eternally pay
One day all that was ever taken from you
God will reinstate and make bran new
One day in this life you will grow up and be
A man with morals, values and integrity
For your present pain will not be in vain
You’re going to break those generational chains
Your sorrow 
will help others survive their tomorrow
There are divine appointments and I believe you just had one
I know that in your pocket you have a loaded gun
I know where you have been
I promise you the dilemmas of your life, you will win!
Even when you fall
You can still fulfill your call
I must admit
You only fail if you quit
One day some teenager will ask you to explain
And you will remember this night and everything you have gained.


BY: Sabina Nicole
Contest: Dilemmas


Long poem by Samantha Komornik | Details | . You can read it on PoetrySoup.com' st_url='http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/im_tired_of_pretending_part_1_570528' st_title='I'm tired of pretending part 1'>

I'm tired of pretending part 1

I wish nothing more than to quit this game of pretend
I want to go back to being me, and forget whatever happened
I play pretend
Like a little girl who plays dress up.
I play pretend
To be an innocent little girl again
I play pretend
To make everyone happy
To make everyone leave me alone
I forgot who I am.
Am I really this nice of a person who gets walked over excessivly?
Then why do I have another part to me, screaming to be let go of.
To be let out...
Why is it whenever I let that half of me out even the slightest
People jump the gun and make me out to be a monster?
I am scared of that other half
I'm completely sure what she's like
I know that it is almost nothing like the other my other half
Why can't I be all of me?
I'm so tired of pretending.
I smile so much, my face hurts.
I smile so much I want to cry
I hate to smile.
False smiles, False laughs, and lies
That's how I play pretend.
"I swear I'm okay."
That's an empty promise.
I hate pretending
It kills me every day.
It makes me forget the other half inside
That claws and screams to get out.
It makes me forget the pain
Which only comes back later
Intensified, stronger, and more violent.
I'm tired of putting up with false friends
Who do nothing but accuse me
And point out my mistakes
Yell at me, and want to change me
Wanting to bend and break me
I'm tired of pretending
Of being so malluble just to make other people happy
But what about me, huh?
When will Samantha get her day to be happy?
When will Samantha get to be herself?
When can she stop playing pretend?
IF she can even stop playing pretend.
I'm tired of these false friends
With their invisible unknown strings set into my back.
I'm tired of puppet masters for friends
People are so stupid
They are so blind and trusting
They can never tell when I say a lie.
"I'm okay."
"No, it's fine, trust me."
I'm tired of making everyone else happy, except myself.
Why should I rely on people anyway?
They only dissapoint me in the end.
Love dissapointed me
Love betrayed me
Friendship stabbed me in the back
and they both lied to me.
What have I left?
Nothing really.
Music for one thing
My mind for another
But really, what have I left?
Nothing.
I'm tired of pretending...
I wish that I could stop...
But I've become so accustomed to it...
That it's become like a drug I can't quit.
Not to make me happy...
But everyone else around me happy.
And me all the more miserable.


Long Poems