I don’t even like you
I only like to be liked
I really, really like you
I’m just pretending I am someone else
I don’t even like you
I just want someone
I just don’t want you to lie
If I’d only stop lying
So much questions left unanswered
So much words unspoken
Can someone live with the knowledge of being broken
Broken in every way, trust, compassion is lost every day
My life seems awkward, surreal
Someone tell me what’s the deal
Is it me? Am I being afraid of the things I had
Or is it different, am I glad?
Is it over, was it there? Do they trust or was it all a lie
A lie for life, a lie we live with or is it what I really am?
Everytime I see you and say hi
I’m lying for who I really am…
I cannot seem to hold on, cannot hold on to the thoughts of being alone
Its like before, if I still believe in that
‘cause I stopped believing in what people say
Must have a reason… hopefully not, maybe just maybe… not today.
\\one of my older ones ^^
do the same thing over and over
your conscious not aware of all these signs
to summarise
you realize
trust yourself
or keep rejecting
Who can sail without wind?
Who can row without oars?
Who can say farewell to a friend, without shedding tears?
I can sail without wind, I can row without oars,
but I can’t say farewell to a friend, without shedding a tear.
What’s so special about a text on a paper, which occasionally rhymes, depending on my mood?
Well, I think poetry is different for anyone. Just like a song that can affect your mind during a whole day, if the text has a nice flow it will stick in your head.
And every once in a while I make up a beautiful text in which you can find that story flowing on your brainwaves.
But also a lot of times, for me, it is more about trying to explain my thoughts to the public and find the slightest possible recognition in the comments provided by my readers.
In some way poetry effects our minds like the way classical music does, some people listen to it, but do not hear anything. They can not see an image that can relate to the themes of the music, but that’s not always nessecary.
For everyone out there that does not understand:
It’s not about being smart enough to think three steps ahead in chess.
It’s not about the glassier that’s able to put a glass in a window frame without breaking it.
And lastly its not about that semi-smart remark trying to explain poetry to the true noob.
It is about what you want it to be.
Three themed
When I can get hope
Why do I not just take it.
Why do I choose differently
I’d so much wish to give my life to someone
Take away responsability
Take away my fears
In these couple of months
I’ll try and be consistent
And post some text every once in a while
I hope you enjoy
Greetz Ingmar
My first
For every little thing
there will be a first
whether that is good or bad.
Outcome can be happy, can be sad.
But no matter how we cope,
we all rely on hope
White or black
you will get set back
or pushed forward
by the ones who really care.
Although it might seem hard
it’s where you stand still and stare.
Your first friend
you’d always defend.
First time someone died
for some forever their guide.
We all have our own ways.
All have our days.
Although for some you will get taught.
I hope this will be food for your thought
My first.