Once, there was a time
When I lived a simple life
No days lost to disinterest
No weeks lost to strife.

Then many problems hit
I survived them all intact
So I lived a little more
Then tried to get them back.

Something about fighting
It seemed to give security
A private place to grow and change
Where there was only me.

I felt freedom and purpose
I had wit enough to write
I learned to fight my way without
A blinding guiding light.

Though I changed on the inside
My surface stayed the same
Trapped inside myself
By reputation and my name.

I previously viewed this
As a minor complication
I now know this was a problem
The cause of my isolation.

Soon I found how people worked
I found out how they LIED
And in myself it rang true
In no one could I confide.

I've tried to shut it off
I've tried to let them in
I've tried to give them trust
But I just couldn't trust again.

Trust drives away
And ego decimated
I find I must fight off
The monster I've created.

But I am still afraid
When I hold its severed head
What life will I have left
Once this great monster's dead?

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Comments on this beam

  • NEO NEO says:

    conclusion-depends on the monster we create inside.....our life reside on....

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