Best Succumbing Poems
How sad, a mere mortal can promise forever?
In any context, forever doesn't exist,
Forever falls apart sooner or later,
Or when they say it gets better soon,
How long is soon? Good far is it?
How can a pathetic human foretell the future?
How do you know I'll be better? Or even if I will be or not?
How do you know what's in my brain? You know the words I tell you.
The pieces I pick out and display to show I'm not perfect, but hide the ones to scare you off,
How can you say I know you when I don't know myself?
I don't wanna grow up, I don't plan to.
Not in a nostalgic way, but in a way I won't exist.
I won't exist for that future, no matter if it's better or not,
I don't want to live in this world,
And if I end up sending myself to hell, I hope that fire gives me warmth.
I hope it's comforting like how my mother's arms are supposed to be, or I hope I burn until I don't feel.
You say I don't care about you if I wanna leave, I'm selfish I agree, I'm a hypocrite, but you'd want to see your friends fine too? Even if you're not.
Fixing others when you can't hold your own pieces together.
How can I get better, when I've seen people still the same,
How much effort can I make when my hands get cracks and I can't lift?
How much can I bear, when a ship sinks if too full?
How do I hold the pieces when I have two hands and the shards are too many, cutting into me as I gather.
i simply cannot bear this
Derelict now cold
Mossed stones in sporadic spill
Ageing arms out spread
They, competing for the light
Sadly, both succumb to time
.
My psychiatrist ain't cheap
now that I swapped the basic for an iPhone 4G.
Guess them Apples really do keep the doctors away!
That is if you have the funds to pay...
Something Sweet
I want something sweet
Pestered by my brain
It’s like a recurring tweet
I am trying to refrain
Something sticky like toffee
A gooey dessert of delight
To eat with a cup of coffee
Resisting with all my might
A chocolate bar or wafer
To ease my craving buds
Apple would be much safer
But it tastes like fairy suds
I am waiting for 4 o’clock
The Sunday shops stop calling
My will as solid as a rock
My glucose level’s falling
The pride of not succumbing
A passing of this test
I should be very happy yet,
My brain’s becoming a pest.
David Cox 13/04/25
The heavy air of uncertainty;
Hinders every breath;
And an indistinguishable smell of rancidity;
Strangles and chokes out the existence of all well being.
And in desperation you look around for someone to help;
But there’s no one that your eyes can see;
So you search your mind for a name;
But once again none can be found.
And with sickle in hand and direction fixed;
The Reaper (so grim) illuminates his presence;
By the unavoidable air of fear;
That’s coming from your eyes.
So you lift up your hands to the sky;
To ask the powers that be to tell you this isn’t real;
But as always the demons living inside you;
Insists it always has been and always will be.
And your fears; they grew much stronger
While to that pit you fall
And your hopes; they never prospered;
And you never broke those walls.
Ah...Satisfactorily Succumbing Into Salubrious Sleep
Aye sandman, I surrender to yar supreme governance
surreal spectacular soiree gifts subconscious sphere
soothing (analogous to natural palliative), ah...REM
member nought, asper exquisite entertaining cerebral
kaleidoscope replete with nonpareil visual trappings
aesthetically tantalizing unforgettable..., but lo' eye cant
captcha scenario upon awakened state, tis bothersome
transcendent, resplendent, quiescent,...transient dream
ticking escapement shuttered against recollections...
aye plead mercy to jog, (and gently jimmy - yeah of
course figuratively) shuttered facet slammed tight soon
nee immediately inaccessible dimension brought forth
teasingly, phantasmagorically, numbingly ephemeral,
nonetheless temporarily liberating, enshrouding, and
cocooning against incessant drubbing mine corporeal
wakeful body electric relentlessly fraught with profuse
inexplicable perspiration (principally palms) recurs
like clockwork (despite prescription medications), this
physiological discomfort hazards livingsocial quotidian
joyless agonizing oft times including courtesy, not
"FAKE" panic attack, these anxiety less debilitating,
when emotionally torturous teenage years wracked
every cell (no matter how fast I ran - just Kuwait, the
mailer daemons threatened) to undermine even flickr
of happiness, hence suicidal ideations (eternal slumber)
tantalized (still populate though processes) as surefire
solution to mitigate despite leaving those who love,
and especially hate yours truly, his existence bereft
of quality, though tranquil physical quasi rural setting
(Schwenksville), a naturalistic, fantastic, holistic balm,
here quiet as a cemetary removed, not considerably
distant from Philadelphia (hubbub disagrees with hair
trigger vulnerability), where madding crowd affects my
innate neurological predisposition, these lovely bones
easily rattled, quite aggravating to live verging upon
tremulous agitation assuaged through writing - catharsis
delivers temporary alleviation as doth solitary voluntary
sequestration poor substitute to relish L'Chaim!