That Solemn Shroud of Safety

That which prevents me from showing who I truly am,

Is because of the results I have seen from those who can,

Most are beaten down, thrown away, grinded up in the cog of our world today,

I these times it's better to sink down deep,

Than to let you be among those radical waves that sway,

What makes this world what it is are those who are uncertain of themselves,

What makes us who we are is our battles with our own personal hell,

But sadly that which makes us the most of who we are, is that which we wish to shroud from others,

That which we doubt and hide which keeps us hidden under covers,

Our nightmares,

Our dreams,

Our thoughts,

The essence of who we are is what scares us the most.

And yet we all still stay chained to our gray monotonous posts.

Never to indulge and let out the real us, fearful of perilous silence,

Waiting in a single moment,

That spans the eternity of a single quiver from a lip,


A fate I would rather combat than defend, but cruelty can only be fought with cruelty.

To fight cruelty with kindness is a sad faulty.

A human ideology so sullen.

Metaphorical suicide of one's soul, an end.

It is not for our comfort with which we hide ourselves, it is for our safety.

Safety from ridicule and all of a cruel world's pressures, shelter from emotional harm.

What a cruel shroud, we suffocate ourselves to save other's, for what? Emotional safety.

What a cruel shroud, we destroy ourselves, in a prison of mental disarm.

All for safety.

Destroying our freedom.

All for safety.

We cry in our selfish martyrdom.

All for safety.


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 for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741