A Ghost in a River of the Living

Im a ghost in a river of the living

Their minds are corrupt with the need 

To be perfect

To fit in among the rest, to uphold their

Social standings

And to reach the highest rank of the 

Social hierarchy, of which only the Best

Can succeed

Their life is consumed  

And their vision is blurred.

 

I am often swept into the 

Swift and aggressive current,

Tumbling and thrashing,

Trying to hold on to

Anything that allows me to belong.

And once I get tired,

And my body goes weak,

I stop tumbling and thrashing,

Trying to hold on to

Anything that allows me to belong.

The fog suddenly clears and 

All is now calm.

The pressure subsides.

I can finally breathe.

 

Im a ghost in a river of the living

The world from which I was stuck in

Was never the reality 

It was all an act, a game

Where people were forced to play

Or suffer in the thought of

Loosing all they had worked for

Now I see far beyond that world.

I am content and value my freedom.

 

I don't wish to go back

The charades consume their life.

They consumed mine.

But the fish prey on what is

Not accepted. 

I try in vain to be confident and steadfast

in my beliefs.

To fend off the thoughts of corruption

But I am not strong.

I cannot stay at peace with who i’ve become.

And I am swept out yet again,

into the swift and aggressive current

Tumbling and thrashing,

Trying to hold on to

Anything that allows me to belong.

I remain a ghost in a river of the living.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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