I used to think I saw life through a cracked lens
Until I saw life looking back with a cracked grin
A wicked smirk
Telling me “If you think you can conquer me,
I have set a curse for every breath you breathe.
I have poisoned every good thing.”
So let me ask you this one thing:
If everyone’s been through this pain
Why does it seem like nobody can relate?
Everyone says this hurt will heal
Glazed over eyes and halfhearted sympathies don’t fly
Lovers are lies with improvised whys
of why they leave you left with a hatred of love
Hate is safer than love these days
It doesn’t leave you lost in a maze
Just strays you in a haze of cliches
So tell me what’s the point of living when death is our final destination?
Why is it a crime to want to leave the inevitable prematurely?
Why are tears shed for the ones who don’t have to endure this “gift” called
Life?
What’s the point of living when death is our final destination? I dunno, but it seems wrong to waste the short time we have before death, cutting it short before we have to. Maybe the point is to make the most of that short time we have before death.
I’m not going to try and answer what this poem asks, but it was good and there should be no guilt as to what it expresses. In fact, I think it’s better to express it one way or another instead of always keeping it locked inside.
Yes. Life IS suffering. Thought provoking piece.