surreal poetry
Surrealist poetry embodies the essence of poetry itself, drawing upon shocking imagery and lyrical incongruities to comment on the inner-workings of the mind.
My Sins
My words speak on my needs. The yearning of compassion I seek. Yet contempt for complacency... idiocy, within my own thoughts, equal a higher equivalency of self doubt. and the need of mental assurities. why do I think this way? Educated, calculated, urban driven so premeditated... is how my thoughts formulate... but yet self destructive driven... crying tears of blood. Through the years and chapters I’ve livin’, Self sorrow hidden. Masked by strength and contempt of failure. The burden of weakness will never be an excuse. To proud to show a heart, not strong enough... to just let go... So I’m here pain filled deeply distraught... pushing through day by day as my demons tear my soul apart....at times glassy eyed, my windows empty... a metaphor for my light, that shines gently... But will it fade nahhhh, to suborn to give in... as I pray for the ones drawn to my dimmed essence.. not to be captivated by my sins!
By Prolific Thoughts5 years ago in Poets
Glitch
Someone is watching and someone is listening, glitching through my social life like an unseen butterfly, zipping through all of my privacy and pretending they have a right to look at me through a key hole that we call a camera. Someone is watching and someone is listening, glitching through my phone calls and glitching through my posts, crawling through my old posts and getting angry because I’m not afraid to talk about the truth. Someone is watching and someone is listening, glitching through my screen when they don’t want me to know the truth, wasting time while I’m resting my phone and they’re making posts disappear so that the public will never know. Someone is watching and someone is listening, glitching through the black mirror while I remove my clothes, and snickering at my mental breakdown because they think that I don’t know. Someone is watching and someone is listening, glitching through my technology like a big brother who wants nothing but to see and know all things, but they’re too lazy for get the information legally. Someone is watching and someone is listening, trying so desperately to control my life on the other side of a screen, but they would never show themselves in person. Someone is watching and someone is listening to every word that leaves my lips because they are a loser and they want me to lose too, but the only losers are the ones who give up. Someone is watching and someone is listening to the conversations that I share, and they have so much power because they control so many others as well. Oh. Poor thing, watching my life like a movie because yours isn’t good enough. But see, I cannot be controlled. Oh. Poor thing.
By VikingIndie5 years ago in Poets
