Hail Storm
In this hail storm.
Why am I always the last man standing.
With each pellet I endure.
Just make me numb.
Just make me invincible.
Just make me indestructible.
While everyone runs for cover.
I say here I am.
Take me if you think you can.
Bravery and foolishness go hand over hand.
But someone must make a stand.
If not me then who.
Bottoms up.
As I drink the last dropp from the cup.
Its full courage
Its full of hope.
Its full of suffering.
Its full of ignorance.
Lesson yet to be learned.
With a voice reaching out for me.
Like a cold dead hand.
You will know no happiness if you take this road.
You will no love if you fly that way my dove.
In the end their is no gold.
I guess my soul can't be bought or so sold.
Growing forever young.
Permanently mentally dumb.
Wish I would have took that god damn blue pill instead.
Then I would be in another forever dream.
One where my sense of right and wrong was completely gone.
Where I could continuously hear my perfect song.
Over and over it repeats.
As does every last tragedy.
I still can hear the screams of agony.
They beckon me.
Their calling for blind hero.
Am I that man?
Am I not that man?
In all good questions comes some kind of contradiction.
I have this affliction.
I need to tare myself apart.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
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