The Given

How does one live in such a world of fate.
In this world we live where things are never meant to even be great.

There is something in this world that steals from your very being.
It makes it so that you feel as if you don’t have any meaning.

Always pulling and dragging you back into a place so dark.
As if ripping and tearing out of you, every part.

Taking from you everything that means so much.
Leaving nothing in you as if it seems it’s supposed to be as such.

Have you ever felt as if you never get that seems deserving.
Never having what it is that you’re conserving?

In need of it, as if its life itself.
Seeming that it’s always here as a burden on oneself.

Always feeling that you give and give and you never receive.
When it can be so simple, so small, or even great, that all you can do is just believe.

As if you’re the other side of a coin to everyone around you.
All that there is, is given and when you’re about to.

Taking and stealing from you that are so dear.
Making it as if all you want to do is just to disappear.

Ever feel that you can’t take no more?
That this giving that you cherished is nothing but a chore.

Like a disease it lives off of you and living in this world too.
It’s making you think it’s the only thing in this life you’re aloud to do.

What you thought at first in your life was such a gift.
Is nothing more now, than something apart of you, and yet seems to be adrift.

It’s holding on to you, keeping you from being free to have all that’s right.
In the end makes you feel nothing more, but just want to fight.

Nothing but fear, anger, and desperation, swelled all together with loss, through your inside and out.
Simply put, down to your very core, you’re filled with something and all it is; is just called doubt.

You see yourself on the outside looking in.
Wanting what all those others have or even been.

You find that it’s always theirs and not yours.
That it seems the people that get through this world are just simply whores.

Doing what they do, because they want it.
In the end it’s only theirs, so they can flaunt it.

Core meaning is gone and as if it’s their life is just to destroy.
They live their lives out as if its just one big ploy.

Confusion is everything they have around them again and again.
Wishing that they could see what’s happened here, now, and back when.

Knowing that what they do here on this world is so wrong.
But they’ll never learn, until the end, when life is gone.

Even after knowing that what it is I do for them in my life.
Always ends with me thinking of nothing more, than the shine, and edge of a cold steel knife.

Wondering of what they’d do if I didn’t care no more.
Not giving like I always do, for them, as before.

Seeing and believing that what was once abused.
It’s nothing more but dead, gone, and subdued.

Something that sounds right and yet so wrong.
How will I know what’s right if it’s gone?

This thing that haunts, in this life, will be with me all day and night.
No matter how much hate and love this thing has, is that I believe its right.

We’ll see how they are when they ask me to give one too many more.
And they take out what’s left inside, what remains in my core.

When you look at my inner self to see what it could once hold.
You’ll see nothing but ashes of what is now old.

Nothing but remains of what happiness I gave to those when I tried
Even when they weren’t looking, when I needed, I cried.

As much as it kills me to continue this game of life and above.
That the only thing that I cant seem to get, but give, is my love.


Giving and loving will be something that will be with me to the day that I die.
But I pray and hope that someone will give, to the given, when they cry out, ‘why?’…