Tears caress my cheek
As they tell me not to be meek
Be strong! Be strong!
You’ve got to carry on!
But I don’t want to carry on if carrying on means a mask must be worn
If not displaying emotions is strength, then WHY does it feel so wrong?
Do I feel like I do not know what to do and feel
Am I overanalyzing, is this really real?
This superficialness is simply the first stage of grief
Negativity has me feeling like Chief Keef
I DON’T LIKE! I DON’T LIKE!
Wipe the tears from my eyes, because as a man I should not cry
Societal expectations with no explanation are leaving me dry
Be strong for others, they say
BUT no one clarifies what this entails
Do other people keep on telling me what I should do?
Do they tell me to let it out for that decision they will rue!
There is an uncontrollable ball of rage inside of me
Digesting my intestines, if released a pretty sight you will not see!
So STOP telling me how I should feel
STOP telling me how I should heal
STOP telling me how I should deal
With my issues, walk a mile in my shoes
And you will quickly learn
That I have no idea why I feel the way I feel
I have no idea what is real and what is real
I thought time heals all but these emotions cannot be vanquished
WHY do you get to Rest in Peace?
While I’m Alive in Anguish…
So time goes on
And they say time heals all
But time merely marked the passage
Of emotional baggage
Transforming into a package
Making me a savage, cabbage, multilayered average carriage of damage
My soul was hemorrhaged
With the knowledge of death
A privilege and a curse
As I attempt to salvage the innocence I had left
People started dropping like flies around me!
The first was the catalyst for death to start surrounding!
Fear gripped me
For I could cry for none but the first
Was HE the most important or could it be worse?
Could I finally be becoming numb to the pain?
Fain feelings to gain normalcy, incapable of hurt like the Jain
Sorrow coursing through my veins
Only thing keeping me sane
Is that you did not die in vain
For it taught me
Shy away from mediocrity
Life is TOO SHORT to not be the best that you can be
An obsession with death cultivated into a celebration of life
Focus on strife
Made me realize you only live twice
Death when your heart stops beating
Death when your name is uttered for the last time
This is always one of the toughest weeks of the year. This was originally a song that was reworked into the poem above. Rest in eternal peace and power Daddy