They See Differently

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I had asked my love about his thoughts on himself. He had told me that hes like a box that to him seems empty and meaningless, but to others it's filled with all of these great things. It took me about 4 hours to write this and make sure it was completely perfect before I read it to him. He was blown away. My close friends that I read my poetry too were also amazed. They told me that I MUST start posting my work. Now I'm here(: I hope you guys enjoy! I will make sure to post the next thing I write!(:

They See Differently

The box is empty, oh so it appears.
I'm missing the most important pieces,
Yet she effortlessly unmasks with in herself the exact fragments I am lacking.
She forces everyone else to see the intoxicating parts of me I could never open my eyes too.
Who would have known that to others the box is filled with their wildest dreams?
Flooding their eyes with greatness, I still see nothing.
She claims my sight is impaired,
Perhaps I'm blind?
She believes I'm so much more than I assume to be.
Maybe I'm wrong?
Or possibly my past love pushes me to where I don't live anymore.
I'm aware I've altered my being, for the better.
My inner light illuminates,
It whispers "you're free".
The girl in the past engulfed my mind with lies.
My present, my future, my girl attempts to asist my mind with the consumption of wisdom about my inner self.
Her strategy is elementary, she coveys to others
Sending pulsating waves of light, expelling what I have come to know as my infinite shadows.
I could possibly not be blind.
It's just the glimmering light.
Who could have the ability to comprehend that the last steps of this dance were within my vision?
All I must do is drop my hand and exterminate the wall that draws a line between our so called reality and my contaminated imagination.
I must allow her to replenish my eyes with color so she is able to aid me in illustrating and painting the world realistically, instead of coating it in false promises and fantasies.
Instead of using shades of black to sketch in my mental terrors.
As this strenous chapter comes to a close,
I shun my inner demons as they lie defeated.
Coincidentily, I, myself, was the key to deminishing this solemn tragedy.
I had all the weapons I needed,
They were just simply confined to an inconclusive depth,
Divided within my spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical being.

~H.C.

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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.

xoxang3lxo28’s Poems (26)

Title Comments
Title Comments
They See Differently 0
Could We Be Falling For Each Other? 0
I Know How You Feel, I Was Hurt Just Like You 0
Pursuit of Happiness 0
Remember Me 1
A New Way Of Thinking 0
New Doors Were Opened 0
Just a Nudge Was All She Needed 0
Seeing clearly 0
Real Love, Ring True 0
Walking Away Doesn't Always Mean You've Given Up 0
Sweet dreams.. 0
Be Careful, You're Walking a Thin Line 0
In My Head (Behind The Scenes) 0
See Like Me 0
For Peter.. 0
Slowly Slipping Back.. 0
You're What Pushes Me To stay 1
Mind Games 0
Quotes 0
Dear Mother 0
Regaining the Problem 0
Old Friend 0
Past love 0
Just Let Go Already 0
Setting Yourself Free 0

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