Poem 2

There is nothing to learn,

Absence of life is a scream,

Saying nothing, the people around are keeping

To themselves, digging in their own beliefs,

Ostracizing people who disagree with them.



A way of life that doesn't exist in most people's mind,

Retired from society yet working for it,

Removing all that bind oneself, impossible, yet it's trying to;

A long and peaceful way towards a better path,

Nature and its thorns welcoming you.



A chasm that disables those who disagree,

Yet somehow also those who agree.

A strong sense of self and a strong sense of belief in oneself.

A memory of what it's like to be lonely and alone.

A smooth and unbreakable sleep that stains the walking being.



An experience that feels like memories escaping,

Technology disabling the real self, once again.

A dying sense of simply "being alive"

There is nobody here, up the stairs and down the basement.

Wanting just to stay within, souls threw themselves away.



A toothbrush and trash going away to the back of the room.

Possibly crying for their owners in pity.

It does not feel good,

To feel like a decaying spirit

Only confirmed by skin going away every minute.



All my life I can remember longing

Lookin across the water and strong winds.

Never camped and never looked toward someone,

Island beyond the sea, not far from home.

I saw fireworks miles away and heard them,



But the sound forgotten in one's sleep,

Enough to forget about it in distance and dreams.

Then turned 21 the man said fuck people,

Holding a message from them, rejecting something like this.

Unfulfilled and slowly dying, or so the man believed.



A winter home waiting, hopefully, somewhere.

Only the self battling for himself against Death and time.

The wrong kind of painting seen, burning in his mind.

I knew exactly the road to take but I never drove towards it.

Pressure and pleasures long forgotten.



Moutains in the distance adressing to me,

"When you're going through hell, keep going."

So I went back to feel alone there.

Dying every second that pass,

Longing for something that most likely does not exist.



Sweet kid, what is this world you've been born to?

Crow, I said. Crows? I asked. Are you dreaming about crows?

And there nothing was.

An unknown presence that lived as nothingness.

A dream that would never be fulfilled.



Stuck at a time where my soul broke,

I keep clinging onto winter giving back what I lost.

But asking the world is asking to the void.

No answer and no hope for nothing hear such a request.

Nothing to do but walk in town, hopeful that someone would sit beside me.



Belonging to not even myself, 

Driving for hours for escaping to forget myself.

The sea waves blow upon my face

Reminding me that Mother wouldn't mind keeping me.

And I wouldn't mind going back to her.



Ending such a thing speaks to me,

Finding meaning in songs and art,

Displeasing what doesn't live

And what doesn't answer my calls.

Calls of distress unanswered.



Shoes shined for the cemetary, 

Cracked open in Earth loose.

Rejected form of respect for disliking brothers and sisters.

Yet I keep longing for them to receive my thanks.

Perhaps some answer it and bless none.



A fear and acceptance to die,

A sacred ground made just for me perhaps,

Every shape created rejected by it.

I'll never know you and you'll never know me,

Longing for an illusion I'll see.



False hope and inexistant answer,

Going every week travelling to nothingness,

Persistant feeling of pain and frostbite.

Stuck where my soul broke,

Smashed on the rocks.



A bright thing caught my eye,

A dream-like landscape near a road,

Uncompleted but more than enough.

Walked through it and felt content in my age.

Hold on to something that might exist.



Dreams that have nothing to do,

A subconscious human distress call

That never was answered.

No time for anyone to reject others and cling onto illusion.

I forget myself in the sea waves.