Gloomy Sunday Peoms by Ivy Bernet (best fiction novels .txt) 📖

new pain in my heart refuses to subside On Internal Thoughts

 

I want others to see and understand the same things I do.

But is it right to want them to see the unrest and pain I see?

Especially if that means they will end up as miserable as me?

What if I told others to close their eyes?

 Would they stay purely innocent of how this world really is?

What if I kept them from seeing the truth?

Which I have learned to despise.

Would it make a difference?

Would that make me a better person?

Saving one innocent soul.

 Or would they be just as ignorant as I believe the rest of the world to be?

Could I actually help people?

            or would I become the one corrupting them?

 

But Why not?

Do people really deserve the right to decide for themselves?

Especially when they don’t care about the outcome?

            Why should those who want to remain innocently ignorant

 be trouble by those who don’t?

            And why should they be giving a choice if they only end up hurting themselves?

 

But then again maybe I really am the foolish one.

            What if everyone already sees is it?

            What If I am the only one that simply cares?

Do others share my cluttered mind and thoughts?

Is anyone else as desperate for the truth as I am?

Do they feel alone and scared, or are they strong and determined?

Maybe, like me, they don’t really know what to feel?

I shout “Where is our proof?”

 But then where is our answer?

But then why even write?

Will I ever hear any reply?

No.

            This world is cold, hurtful, deceiving, and a liar.

           

But is this society, or is this crazy?

Then again I believe we have become accustom to crazy.

It is like a home we run to.

And no matter how much we hate it;

Crazy is familiar, warm, and safe.

And when we no longer need it, it is thrown to the side.

And like a good parent no matter how far we try to run Crazy will always find us.

It finds us in our weakest state and begs for control.

And we give it control, because secretly we all long for a little Craziness.

 

However is it a secret if I know?

            And if I tell you is it still a secret?

            I suppose it isn’t.

You just refuse to see it.

On Irony

 

We can sit on the sidewalk

Just to two of us

And watch birds bath in a puddle

 

You turn to me and say

Society may have destroyed the trees that these birds lived in

But at least they have a nice birdbath now.

 

And I laugh

Not because I think you're funny

But because I find more hilarity in life's little ironies than in you

 

You tell me you think the birds are beautiful

And you could watch them all day

You love the way the water ripples as they splash

 

However there are many things you don't care for

 Like the flies buzzing around the garbage can next to us

Or the ant I just blew off your arm

 

You also hate my dirty nails

And the way I look before I cry

And my curly hair

On Loved Ones Leaving

 

 

“I will come back.” You tell me

You swear “We will always be together.”

You reach out to comfort but I pull away

You continue repeating other unoriginal lines

That, frankly, I have heard many times before

 

I’m not angry anymore, neither am I sad

I have seen many others leave before you

Just as I will meet someone else when you’re gone

When they leave they will recite the same used lines as you do now

 

Maybe you will actually come back, but I doubt it

For it would be a first time it has ever happened

And even if you come back you will never be the person I know now

For I would never forget that you left me

 

But fret not for I will think of you nostalgically

I will tell the next one I meet stories of us

But they will be romanticized and unrealistic

And in the end you will just fade into memory

 

You will become another reminder that I should not become attached

 Especially to things that are meant to last a lifetime

On My Hopes For Others

I hope that one day you will find someone who listens to you

They will be there to comfort you when you’re hurt

Console you when your courage has failed

They will never feel like you are burdening them

And they will never forsake you

 

I hope that one day you can rise in the morning

Without feeling like the world is conspiring against you

And you don’t long to return to your dreams

For your waking life is much better than any fantasy,

Your subconscious could derive in blissful slumber

And your nightmares are no longer commonplace

 

I hope one day you will not feel like you need to cry anymore

That your life is filled with such joys your heart swells

 And tears are forced to become nothing more than a memory

The only weeping you will do is that out of gladness

 

I hope that one day you will find a place for yourself

Where you no longer feel like you need to prove anything

That you are safe and content in everything you do

You no longer hunger for the pointless attention of outsiders

And you feel comfortable in your own skin.

 

I hope that one day you will not think of your end

You will not wonder on what swift wing it comes

Or pray for Death’s cold touch to sweep you from this colder world.

That you will not think of committing an unpardonable sin

 

I hope that one day you will forgive others

You will forget the cruel torments of people

That you will absolve your hatred towards society

That you will pardon the coldness of those clamming to love you.

 

And most of all I hope that one day you can accept yourself

You will forgive yourself for everything others have long ago

You will see yourself as the beautiful creation of fate that you are

You will no longer think that you do not deserve to be loved

And you will find happiness in this world

 

Because you are worthy of that

On The Pain Of Other

‘Oh my dear sweet angel.

Dare not to cry

For you are the sweets apple ever seen in my eye.’

 

 I tell you as you bite your lip,

Feel your chin quiver,

And harden your cheeks for the inevitable tears.

 

I whisper quietly as the wind into your ears.

‘Everything will be alright

And all is as it should be.’

 

Whether either of us truly believe what I say is irrelevant.

Because it is a lie

So I will continue to try

 

But regardless of my efforts you will always cry.

How could you not?

How can you possible stop the flow of clear crystals down your cheeks?

 

For you have swallowed a dangerous mixture of lies and hopes.

You will always drink the glass of promises life gives you with gratitude.

Then curse life for its cruel tortures.

But fret not my love

For just as you continuously drink the cup of suffering

I will always be here to watch your pain.

On Villians

 

How do you know when you’ve become the villain?

 

Is it when you realize you’re a monster?

Or when you start to enjoy being a monster?

 

Is it when you see that no one notices you?

Or when you appreciate that you don’t care?

 

Is it when you see that your core is corrupted?

Or when grasp the evil within you?

 

Is it when others say you’ve lost your way?

Or when your heart is broken beyond repair?

 

Is it when you feel a fiend inside you?

Or when you let your demon take over?