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Dylan Holt Poem
Lonely people need me.
They grin at my presence and rejoice when they hear my name.
I bring them company in the best of ways,
I lend out my ears for days to let them relieve the pressure,
weighing heavy upon their chest.
Lonely people love me because i give the best advice,
I come when called,
ask no questions,
tell no lies.
They need to hear what they're worth,
so i say unto them there is no price bountiful enough for their lives.
Accompanied people are jealous of my ways,
seeing as I have the power of speech and the presence of the lonely.
Yet I belong to neither side.
I call and call but no one comes,
i ask and do not receive,
nobody lends my soul the ears of compassion or friendship.
I am virtually surrounded by people,
yet when I fall, a hand I am not offered.
When i scream, a response is not heard.
And when i cry, no shoulder is presented.
I need the lonely people to accompany me on a journey of speech and thought,
for I need the feel of others.
I despise the accompanied,
because they take the companionship they have for granted.
Copyright © Dylan Holt | Year Posted 2012
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Dylan Holt Poem
I'm Burning in water...
I'm Drowning in flames..
I'm Throwing my tears...
And Crying blades...
You Said you would always be there...
But Where are you now?
When Your drowning in your own sorrow...
I Wish I was there..
To Drown with you...
In our field of Unhappiness.
Copyright © Dylan Holt | Year Posted 2012
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Dylan Holt Poem
The way I see is so unheard of, it gets to me that nobody sees what I see.
This way of thought chose me, As it calls out my name, Some call it insanity or ill.
But I find the way I see is very real.
There is no life after death you see, This is what my sight tells me.
There is no point in shaping your mind, As it will shut door to your perception and the way you think.
See, if you could see the way I see and what I see, you would demand and declare insanity, For what I see isn't seen unless you see the way I see.
The world isn't what it seems, it seems.
The way I see tells me there is no insanity that will cause the death of me, But a broken dream will surely be, This I cannot see because of the way I see, you see.
When life has a strange rhythmic pull on you, you see, then maybe you can see the what I see the way I see it, It seems.
To I, the way I see is but the way I've always seen, But yet you see me strange.
Because the way I see is unheard of...That gets to me.
Copyright © Dylan Holt | Year Posted 2012
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