poem

Running away from comfort

I never thought it’ll come to this, but I wrote a poem

 

I came here with hopes, dreams and a pair of earphones

I learned quite a lot, I have to admit

I met some good people, very good people, and bad people

I experienced warmth, cold, and culture

I ate whatever I could eat

I played, I loitered, but I have not littered

But now I feel like it is time for me to go

To where, I do not know, but I cannot stay here anymore

because this heaven has become my comfort zone

At the back of my head I hear,” part of the ship, part of the crew”

Which is why I need to get the fuck out of here ASAP

I am a creative person, too lazy to create

Hoping I get an Uber to my next destination

But I don’t feel helpless, because I have a vision

It tells me everything is going to fine 

As of now, I am a kite, caught on a power line

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What do I like?

The little things in life

The oil, the butter, the things that go into the making of the egg roll

The little things

The sound of the radio in the morning

Little acts of kindness

The little details in a painting

The sound of the Batmobile

The Domino’s of pizza

The temperature inside a movie theater

The tenderness of roast chicken

The smoothness of gears

The company of down-to-earth people

The sound of silence

Three days

Three days is not a long time if you think about it

But three days is what I’ve been through

Three days, I cannot forget

Three days, they haunt me, they keep me awake at night

Like a weight on my chest, three days pull me down

Three days, I wept without hope

Three days, I could not cope

Three days is a nightmare, get it out of my head

Three days is what made me fall

Three days is all it takes to loose it all

The inspiration for writing this poem came from loosing internet connectivity for three days.  Tragic events like these tend to pull us down heavily. But it is our job to pull ourselves back up.  For more poems based on loss and depression checkout, “Goodbye, Xbox” and “HR dept., a house of lies” by Curiosity. 

*The author shall not be held responsible for trauma/heartache

The adult

I’ve been having second thoughts about growing up. So I wrote a poem.

 

It feels like something’s missing

It feels like somethings gone

It feels like I don’t belong

I don’t know when this darkness came

Ice cream doesn’t taste the same

That’s a lie

Ice cream tastes great

Especially the ones with Oreos in them

Things suddenly feel okay

Poems are gay

I am not

It’s ok to be gay

Anyway

Time for beer