I know I'm not strong enough to live this way,
Not high enough to forget the pain.
I find solace in serenity.
I'm dealing with my own trinity,
Of being nice, mean, and full of shit;
Not enough alcohol to kill it.
Is it the heart that decides love or hate?
Is it the brain that causes us to rate?
Do we all have somthing we need to prove?
Or do we all just need somthing to do?
The questions fiercely tear me wide apart.
A thirst for the answers comes from my heart.
I can never get strong enough to live this way!
Never high enough to forget the pain!
Only ever find solace in serenity!
Can't seem to deal with my own trinity!
I'm being nice, mean, and full of shit!
Can't get drunk enough to kill it!
There's nothing left for us to prove!
We all just need something to do!
The answers tear right at my heart!
The questions were false hope right from the start.
| This is right from the heart, with the mind twisting and turning.|
The repetition draws us in and takes us to the dilemna of your heart, while your mind forms a chorus in the distance.
I confess I would like to see a resolution of the dilemna between the heart and the head.
It could be a happy ending or a tragic ending. But as the poem stands, it leaves me hanging, without a resolution.
|| Posted on 2014-01-15 00:00:00 | by Torie | [ Reply to This ] |