Dilemma
I thought I have escaped poverty,
But now my mind staves for the street food;
That sweet food
That binds true friends.
As time ebbs on
I’m closer to the edge.
Now, promise me
I won’t lose myself.
The dreams come occasionally,
But I’m long gone;
So distant
I can hardly hear my voice.
I still talk to myself,
Who seems to need the encouragement.
Hating the answers I’ve received,
But I am my only hope.
Do you feel that tingle in your skin
And that blackout,
When you loss track of things?
Have you seen felicity?
I’m allergic to this spirit
That resides inside my shell.
Poverty was easy,
But can I evade this hell?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
