Post by Kriven on Nov 1, 2009 13:29:31 GMT -8
I don't usually write poems. This is why.
© 2009, Nathan DiYorio
I look around, somewhat sadly.
Why do I feel so alone even among this group of friends?
I know the reason, but I'd rather not admit it.
It's because I long for...
Why is this being written?
What do you think you're doing?
Stop moping!
Be a man!
Aren't you a man?
I feel weak sometimes,
but never like I do when I think of telling her.
My cowardice is soul consuming,
despicable I know.
Shut up!
Where do you get off?
Just who said you could be so depressed?
Man-up!
You're disrespecting your gender!
I've felt like this before,
I think,
I'm not sure,
It's not hurt like this before.
What hurts?
What pain?
You ain't bleedin',
So stop cryin'!
You're hurt because you're weak!
Sometimes I want to tell her,
No, always I do.
But she won't want me,
not even I do.
If you told her,
She would laugh.
Why wouldn't she?
You're so stupid!
Give up, man-up!
I fear denial,
Judgement.
And it would be awkward,
would I hurt her?
Of course you would!
Look what you do to you!
Do you really think she'd be
Happy near you?
Even your mother hates you!
In dreams I tell her,
and she says yes,
but then reality is considered,
and dream becomes nightmare.
Oh Lord, here it comes!
Here comes the crying!
The meaningless words,
and the empty tears!
It's not like you really care.
Ugly eyes,
gross physique.
Repellent smell.
Three truths of me, too apparent.
Self-concerned crybaby!
Nobody wants to read this dribble!
Why do you continue to type?
If you're so sad, just die already.
Waste of space.
It would relieve me,
to fall from the world.
But that's no solution,
death is submerged in anguish.
Shut up, moron.
I can't.
Why not?
Because I-
Because why?
I want to-
Can you?
-tell her.
But you won't...
© 2009, Nathan DiYorio
I look around, somewhat sadly.
Why do I feel so alone even among this group of friends?
I know the reason, but I'd rather not admit it.
It's because I long for...
Why is this being written?
What do you think you're doing?
Stop moping!
Be a man!
Aren't you a man?
I feel weak sometimes,
but never like I do when I think of telling her.
My cowardice is soul consuming,
despicable I know.
Shut up!
Where do you get off?
Just who said you could be so depressed?
Man-up!
You're disrespecting your gender!
I've felt like this before,
I think,
I'm not sure,
It's not hurt like this before.
What hurts?
What pain?
You ain't bleedin',
So stop cryin'!
You're hurt because you're weak!
Sometimes I want to tell her,
No, always I do.
But she won't want me,
not even I do.
If you told her,
She would laugh.
Why wouldn't she?
You're so stupid!
Give up, man-up!
I fear denial,
Judgement.
And it would be awkward,
would I hurt her?
Of course you would!
Look what you do to you!
Do you really think she'd be
Happy near you?
Even your mother hates you!
In dreams I tell her,
and she says yes,
but then reality is considered,
and dream becomes nightmare.
Oh Lord, here it comes!
Here comes the crying!
The meaningless words,
and the empty tears!
It's not like you really care.
Ugly eyes,
gross physique.
Repellent smell.
Three truths of me, too apparent.
Self-concerned crybaby!
Nobody wants to read this dribble!
Why do you continue to type?
If you're so sad, just die already.
Waste of space.
It would relieve me,
to fall from the world.
But that's no solution,
death is submerged in anguish.
Shut up, moron.
I can't.
Why not?
Because I-
Because why?
I want to-
Can you?
-tell her.
But you won't...
But TRUST ME, the pain of holding it in is 100 times worse than the pain of letting it out. Who knows, things could work out. And if things don't work out, then hey, you tried, and you can move on. The moving on part might not be so fun, but it's better than holding it in. 
