The Poem Without a Name
From the flames from below to the ice from above, this is the poem, without such a name.
We all feel the feelings, like excitement and joy.
But sadly not all of us, feel joy at all.
Most people feel happiness, hatred, and fear, but some of us, cursed, to only feel fear.
We who feel fear, will also feel others.
Like sadness, abandoned, unwanted and tears.
We know who we are, we know what to do.
This is the poem, without such a name.
We wander the world, wondering what to do next.
What our purpose in life is, why we even exist.
While the others in life enjoy life to the max, we sit around, to moap and to mask.
We pretend it's all good, like we don't need no help.
When deep inside, we're as good as we're dead.
This is the poem, without such a name.
But in the end, there's always a light.
That light either guides us, or makes us fall down.
Most don't know to trust it, may it ruin their lives, or to take it all in, and believe their lies.
But in the end, you choose how you lived.
From alone and upset, to together forever.
You choose how you live, some choose to be sad.
This is the poem, without such a name.
From the flames from below to the ice from above, this is the poem, without such a name.
We all feel the feelings, like excitement and joy.
But sadly not all of us, feel joy at all.
Most people feel happiness, hatred, and fear, but some of us, cursed, to only feel fear.
We who feel fear, will also feel others.
Like sadness, abandoned, unwanted and tears.
We know who we are, we know what to do.
This is the poem, without such a name.
We wander the world, wondering what to do next.
What our purpose in life is, why we even exist.
While the others in life enjoy life to the max, we sit around, to moap and to mask.
We pretend it's all good, like we don't need no help.
When deep inside, we're as good as we're dead.
This is the poem, without such a name.
But in the end, there's always a light.
That light either guides us, or makes us fall down.
Most don't know to trust it, may it ruin their lives, or to take it all in, and believe their lies.
But in the end, you choose how you lived.
From alone and upset, to together forever.
You choose how you live, some choose to be sad.
This is the poem, without such a name.