Dying Town

This place is like poison

Killing me from the inside out

And leaving what's dead to rot


The people force me to put up a facade

To whitewash the tomb that I have become


I smile and laugh and go through the motions

But I don't know if I'll make it out alive!

Will there be anything left of me and my dreams

When I finally have the power to flee this place?


Or will I fade away and be forgotten

Without showing the world me


I fear mediocrity

I fear that I will never have the chance

To try my hardest and feel my potential

I'm afraid, so very afraid of becoming lost

Of drifting helplessly into a pathetic, apathetic life of average


I don't want to work in a dead end job in a dying town

Living paycheck to paycheck

Hoping and praying that the business doesn't close or leave town


The air here chokes me

It's stale and bitter and gets worse everyday


I scrabble for a hand hold

 A way, anyway, to pull myself out of this town

I need to leave

Or one day I will choke to death


I don't want to save the world, change the world, or realize some grand dream

I just need to see and feel the world

To truly realize that I exist.

This poem is about: 
My community


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741