Spent

poetry

I have spent a lot of time thinking,
wasting a lot of my time dreaming,
lost somewhere between hope and reality,
I then spent too much time drinking,
I watched the sun set on another day,
looking to escape, live a different way,
motionless trapped between staying and leaving,
I then spent too much time teasing,
teasing myself,
thinking I was someone else,
pretending I was greater,
than the sum of my parts,
I found myself arrogant and lost,
too far away from my lost soul,
I paved the way to another destiny,
I brought too much baggage with me,
I have spent too much time thinking,
about being young and my upbringing,
about being shy and small and bullied,
watching the sun set on my childhood,
did not know what the future had for me,
I have a temper of fire,
I tried to quench with alcohol,
but I only enraged the flames,
with no patience and too much rush,
I went head first without a push,
and now I stand in another tomorrow,
asking myself who I am,
how I got here,
how many people I have upset,
so many people angry with me,
I took their words of friendship,
and I buried them deep inside of me,
can I call myself a man,
when decisions came I ran,
can I call myself a poet,
when I have never studied the art,
where do I call my home,
when I never stay around,
as I grew older and weaker,
maybe I have spent too much time down,
in the depths of my four walls of despair,
hidden from your view by my hair,
scars hidden deep and deeper still,
still is the water I paddle into,
the tide lapping at my feet,
I have the sea before me,
just like life we cannot see,
past the horizon, into the distance,
into the future,
and what could be,
could I ever be something certain for you,
can I be a normal person to believe in,
when my lethal dose of anger strikes,
just like lightning interrupting the night,
I exploded I gave you a fright,
maybe something in my head is not right,
it is all these years spent,
thinking,
dreaming,
trying to believe in myself,
and only finding doubts,
scars,
fragile cracks I have covered over,
all these years I have spent being alive,
sometimes I thought of ending all of this,
I feel my presence here on earth,
is just to torture and bring bad luck,
to those all around me,
who believed in me,
who tried to heal me,
did I really do this?
have I spent in vain?
all these years and emotions ,
spent in vain?
can you ever find me?
can you keep me sane?

©Darren Hobson February 2015

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