Honest Living

Standing on the edge of living
I take a glance
Then one step back
What I see seems a lie
So many people doing fancy dancing
But how many take off their masks
How many bare their souls as gold
They ask me to join their world of ordinary
Their grasping fingers reaching for mine
My loneliness pushing me forward
But my soul refusing to die
How can I accept such ways
When the very cost would be so much
Am I willing to slay my ripe heart
And take arms with those who hide so cleverly
They aren't living but dreaming
Their lifestyle apparently gleaming
But their souls are black and their hearts are dead
And I cannot slip into their oblivion.
I'd rather stand on my lone island
With life lighting my eyes
Perhaps someday others may join me
And then I will no longer be lonesome
Yes, maybe then there will be another
Who's honesty connects my heart with theirs.

Reviews

[londenberg]

interesting, sometimes i wish I could write poetry but I better stick to reading it, lol. sincerely from the fantasy writer of "LondenBerg by Lord Biron".

[Songbird0510]

Thank you for reviewing this piece! I appreciate you taking the time to do so. :) I like writing poetry- or at least what I deem as such. Its like speaking French through my fingertips.