Shane Miller
Stories (1/0)
Lost
I thought I’d learn after every wrong turn, with all these voices echoing my bad choices. I’ve been beat, played for weak, left for dead, and completely forgotten. On my own, far from home, scraping the bottom. I drown in depression, guilt, regret, and grief, with no family to turn to, and no friend to confide in, I’m on the outside looking in, searching for relief. I try to take a trip, slip into darkness, go numb, feel nothing like I’m heartless, but I keep envisioning the ending. It’s the price I pay for living a life of sinning. All their laws I broke and their rules I’m bending. As the system saps our consciousness and knowledge of self, we rate the wrong riches as treasure and wealth. We must account for everything we spent, every minute, every dollar, every second and cent. We don’t own this Earth, we just pay rent. There are records of everything we did, said, and meant.
By Shane Miller6 years ago in Poets