No hope

Everyday I walk through these aching halls,

Waiting for someone to help,

But they all mock me,

They make me feel worthless,

They put me in agony,

They betray me,

They use me,

They abuse me,

But now I'm done.

 

Thanks to them I'm ready,

This war I'm in,

My arms as a battlefield,

The razor blade as the guns and cannons,

My blood as the blood of men dying,

Are they happy that I'm at war with myself?

Hah I bet they are,

They don't realize the pain they put me through.

 

Now...

It's time...

To my loving mom and dad...

I'm sorry and I'm to blame...

My knees are weak and crumbling...

My thumb is pressed and bitten away...

To my brother and sister...

I'll see you around...

But my soul is blackening...

And I have to break it down...

To the rest I'll forgive...

Hah the rest wouldn't even care...

But I'm sorry...

And soon you'll realize your mistake...

But now I shall go and never come back...

This poem is about: 
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

hunterdunn2000

I love this poem as the writer and reading I can get my feeling that I put into it coming out of this poem, but to the people who are reading this I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it and get the same feeling I wanted to captivate from this poem.

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

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