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Christian Medina Poem
Deliver me into my hell,
Load up the shotgun shells.
Save the words I will not hear,
I’ve decided to live in fear.
I’ll bury my pain in these scars,
As the PTSD sets off alarms.
If peace is money, I have no wealth
It’s hard to win a war against yourself.
Sometimes I wish I couldn’t love,
So I could abandon what’s above.
Sanity was banished far before,
I was enlisted in this war.
If peace is money, I’ll always be poor
I can predict the weather, but can’t change the storm.
Bury me beneath my memories,
Suffocate me inside my agony,
This is where I want to be,
This is who I can’t defeat…
Copyright © Christian Medina | Year Posted 2020
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Christian Medina Poem
I feel blessed for the man I’ll become,
Yet cursed for the boy I am,
Ailing from my Ire of confusion,
Craving an answer to feed my curiosity.
Distraction is my sanity,
Eternal time unravels it,
Yet the only way through this pain,
Is through time,
Holding on to false hope,
Letting go of who I was,
Am I fundamentally different now,
Or did I just repaint the house?
Who am I,
I am everything,
I am remorse and pleasure,
I am melancholy and ecstatic,
I am good and evil,
I am who I am...
I am Human.
Copyright © Christian Medina | Year Posted 2019
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Christian Medina Poem
I used to love how it all felt,
Corrupting every Satelite
Until they all fell.
Now I hear the whispers through the night.
They're telling me to let go,
Of humanity still left in me,
So now I only see my ghost,
Still missing the remedy.
How lovely were their screams,
This is all I got left now,
I cannot be redeemed,
Nothing but the grey clouds.
I'm nothing but a creep,
I'm nothing but a shadow.
He's nothing but a foul fiend,
That cannot be blacked out.
I'm never gonna let go,
I'm never gonna stay behind.
Let's travel through the black hole.
Let's explore the ends of my mind.
What is there to be found?
Is redemption still an option?
Because now that I am space-bound,
I'll find a new home without corruption.
Copyright © Christian Medina | Year Posted 2020
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Christian Medina Poem
The tree is dying,
Its color slowly fading,
Desperate, he keeps writing,
Vaguely Degrading.
The tree knows his time has come,
He knows his death is soon,
So he dwells in what he's become,
Wallowing so dark and gloom.
Though he feels he will leave no legacy,
He'll leave behind plenty of beautiful seeds.
Copyright © Christian Medina | Year Posted 2020
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Christian Medina Poem
We are the beaten,
We are the broken,
We are the torn,
We are the scarred,
But we are still in this war,
Because we are warriors.
We are exhausted,
We grow weary,
We become wounded,
Yet we are not willing to fall,
Because the world needs its warriors.
We are the FOUGHT,
But we are NOT the FALLEN.
We are DYING,
But we will NOT PERISH.
We are WEAK,
But we...
WE ARE WARRIORS!!
Copyright © Christian Medina | Year Posted 2019
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