Angry

Who is this person
Sitting on his cushioned chair
Pressing the buttons on his control

Eyes no longer fazed.
By my desperate pleads
The stench of refusal fills my nose

I slump down,
In awe of his blunt words
I simply can not comprehend

Who is this person
Sitting on his cushioned throne
Pressing the buttons on his control

I miss him
As reality is my only path
All I can ask is "Why?"

Can't he hear the pain in my voice
Is there only one way to get him to regain,
The consciousness

I am no one to him anymore
Just a minuscule voice in his head
No longer asking, but weeping

Is it to much to ask
Can I please have him back
Back through the mirrored door

Who is this person
Sitting on his cushioned chair
Pressing the buttons on his controller

 

Author's Note

Why is growing up so hard?

Reviews

[Ruth]

We sometimes have to look at things in a new light, growing up is hard to everyone, I guess, this is a beautiful poem love:)
A moving piece :)
xx

[Jas Alejandrino Ramos]

i like the strong emotions showed in this poem....i also like the way the poem started with question leaving somehow some kind of mystery:)