Poem Hunter
Birth, Life, Death
TM (1855-1888 / London)

Birth, Life, Death

Poem By Trystan Murray

Birth is beautiful, life is depressing, death is your ending,

Things only get worse and not better,

False dreams, high hopes you fed her,

You smile sweetly with your corrupt soul,

Ashes remain where ther once was coal.

I don't trust anyone on this cold earth,

I keep the little thats left for all its worth.

Do I just join everyone else or be true to myself?

Happiness is what I desire and not wealth.

Jewels, cars, posessions, hide their insecurities,

Ever trusting thier fakeness furies thee.

So how then shall I trust wobbebly stones?

People cannot even see out of thier selfish domes.

I want to run and hide and start all over again,

But there is no promse I will be happy then.

When I look at myself I want to hug the inner child,

The little girl who cries because her life has gone wild.

You overhear bitter words spoken about you,

People who blindly think they have a clue.

One breath, one step, my life is at bay.

One dream, one smile its these that don't stay

I was born and I lived and next is death

Who will I Finally be at my last breath?

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Comments (1)

thats a good poem so much hate and pain deaths not that bad i hope you know. Death has called my name three time so fair and I'm just waiting to die now thats all thats left to do. Love Kat, sorrow