I still feel like I'm tripping.
I still feel like I'm stumbling
Trying to handle it all.
The weight makes me unbalanced
And pulls me to the ground.
When I look up,
I see the problems all around.
So I pick them up
And start walking again.
I can keep these issues
Under control for the most,
But at times, I can't
And they all come out and show.
People may not know
What exactly they are,
But it's easy to see
When they are there.
Please just listen to my vent,
That's all I'm asking for.
Whether I scream, yell, cry or shout,
If you stay and listen,
I will not doubt
That you'll be here for me no matter what.
So please just listen
And please don't judge
My problems make me trip and stumble
And overwhelm me still.
Comments
-
There's a pattern forming here: I'm falling in love with your poetic persona. Watch it, I may start stalking your window sill.
I love the metaphor you used for all the problems. Carrying them and then stumbling to watch them scatter, no longer in your control until you regain your composure.
You're a poet of The Real, missy. That's incredibly commendable.
Vent all you like, chicka - the world will benefit, and so will you.
-
Mmmh, sometimes a good scream or rant is really what's needed, what's best.
This poem is pretty much what I've been thinking the past couple of weeks, the last ten or so lines, especially.
Well done, your poetry is wonderful.
♥
-
Venting through poetry is really refreshing. I know it helps a lot but never fully lets it out sometimes. If you ever need to talk, I'm here.
Adding your comment:
