Myself, My Pain

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  • Auston
  • is not buying it, gravity can't be real.

Myself, My Pain


I'm the one who is guilty.
I'll never be free from myself.
So controlled and flawless,
I shut out everyone else.
I watch the world go by outside,
I know there is no connection.
Alone I'm left, in myself I confide,
how can I ever love again?
I want someone to understand.
So I try to explain,
but all I get are empty stares.
My efforts are in vain.
How can the world go on like this,
in ignorance and bliss?
We're manipulated with hatred,
and blind to what we miss.
You should know I speak the truth.
I have no heart to lie.
Then know our souls are on the move,
or else we'd surely die.
I've been dead on the inside,
my soul's as good as burnt.
I know that I can't feel the pain,
so how can I still Hurt?

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Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

Auston’s Poems (12)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Deadman's Whispers 0
Love Lesson 0
Love Me By The Moonlight 0
Love Like Wine 0
Eulogy 0
Myself, My Pain 0
Fallen Angel 0
Mail-Order Pity 0
Dream Storm 0
Looking For Life 0
The Face Inside 0
Elusion 0