My Solemn Cry

poem by: Darnell Burgess
Written on Jan 25, 2015

Young, angry, and predicted to fail. On top of that, did I forget to mention that I was black. I have been angry for so long I don't remember  what it mean to be happy, or how it feels. My quest for love has lead me down some f'ed up roads. Now a days its getting harder to tell the difference between what is fake and real. For so long I have dedicated life to nothing. And in return, I have reaped exactly what I have sown, which has been nothing. My dedication to self preservation has lead me to some places where I was forced to make certain observations. And after futher investigatation, I  have come to realize that my former location, is not somewhere I want to remain from permanently. My past has brought me nothing but pain. A pain that I will never be able to explain. I swallow it down, and hold it in, but in the end, I know its bond to drive me insane. I feel like a mouse glued to a trap. An itch in the middle of someones back. Like a balloon released in the air. Rising high, moving fast, but in all actuality. I'm headed nowhere. I'm trying to escape my past, but its hard when its constantly being presented to you in the present. I'm living for today, praying for tomorrow, while trying to forget yesterday. And the sad part of it all, is that I no longer have the energy to pray. I am empty. A masked canvas of painted features, forced expressions , and tell tale eyes filled with lies. Smiles bordered on tears. Face wrinkled with years. Hair dyed with stress. I'm a controlled mess. Answer less prayers has caused my faith to fail. It's as if my heart felt words were spoken on deaf ears. Leaving me wondering, how can one be so sincere, speak so clear, and it still appear as if no one hears. I'm a fallen angel tangled amongst the power lines of life. My pride has been reduced to humiliation. My shoulders no longer posses the strength to be held back. I watch as time tick away years from my life. Isolated in the lost world of the forgotten. Surrounded by so many, yet I still feel alone. I guess I was born that way. I don't know what feel like without doing things on my own. Here I stand, exposed before you giving you my most intimate and deepest thoughts. Are you not entertained? Do you even understand? Do you even care to understand?

 

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My Solemn Cry

poem by Darnell Burgess

Young, angry, and predicted to fail. On top of that, did I forget to mention that I was black. I have been angry for so long I don't remember what it mean to be happy, or how it feels. My quest for love has lead me down some f'ed up ... Read more