Your Poetry Dot Com - My 6ft Home

They said that I would make it and amount to something.
Then why do I feel that my worth is nothing.

And if I get up every time I fall,
Then what’s the point of hitting the ground at all?
And if every recovery means another fall,
What is the use of getting up at all?

With every recovery comes more misery,
And with every ray of sunshine there’s a drop of rain.
Weed and alcohol can’t even satisfy my pain.
They numb me and make me forget my problems so I don’t feel a thing.
But what can loose this burden that keeps me restrained?

Stuck in this state of pain and turmoil,
Is my life just a plot waiting to be foiled?

I thought I had it all figured out,
Baseball, a family, and a three story house.

But all I see now is a damp, dark hole,
Where the scum of the earth and the slimy worms roam.

This 6ft hole is where I reside,
No funeral procession, no tears are cried.

No one is here to mention my name,
Nobody remembers this man that was slain.

Was it by my own hand, I do not know,
But this dark hole is my new home.

Summer is gone, winter rolls around.
The leaves have all fallen as snow blankets the ground.

The world has suddenly grown bitter and cold,
May he who is perfect cast the first stone.

Michael’s life may show it best,
That people don’t care until you’re laid to rest.

And even then, after the celebrations over,
And everyone has cried tears on another’s shoulder.

The laughter comes back without you around,
And there you lie forgotten underneath the cold ground.
Few will remember, yes this is true.
But do they actually even know the real you?

The stress and the tears that you shed all alone,
With no one to love or true friends of your own.

You try to be someone that you truly are not,
And attempt to force friendship with all that you’ve got.

But nothing will work that’s just how it goes,
Friendships grow and fall like petals on a rose.

I will be lonely for the rest of my days,
But will give them all HELL, this I promise, someday.

For compassion toward me was seldom shone,
And I cannot wait for that final hello,
When I’m lowered into my 6ft hole.

And people will talk like we were best buds,
And speak of me with admiration and love.

But this deep, dark pain they know nothing about,
I can’t even sleep, I just toss about.
This is my life, not all of their lies.
The lies that eat at my body like the maggots and flies.

So when I am gone please don’t speak of me,
Just dig me my hole and let me REST IN PEACE.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ BONEZ