Seems To Me

Portrail of life. A poem written on 5.17.16

Happiness can be so fleeting,

I feel this life is so misleading,

Inside, my soul is mad and seething,

There must be something I’m not seeing.

You see these wrists, with cuts their bleeding,

These bandages, wrapped to hide their meaning,

Life is rough, cold, creating.

I don’t understand what game we’re playing?

That’s the way it seems to be.

That’s the way it seems to me.

 

Author's Note

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