Well i know reading this you all might be wondering why i wrote something like this. This poem basically is the vent for all that emotion and feeling i held inside about the fued at home.
Shattered glass, broken memories,
An intact past, a destroyed future.
Everywhere I look,
Pain stained faces call out to me for help,
Blood covered hands, the culprit,
Scruples of tainted love,
Wounds that pour forth blood,
Each outburst awaiting an end.
Alive in form, yet dead inside
Hiding the hate inside,
Fury filled fingers waiting to attack,
Held back by love.
All I needed was a reason,
To fight back and kill the enemy.
But the enemy, a person who I was supposed to love,
What should I do? What should have I done?
A complicated and messed up life,
Each day as confusing as the past one,
To love or hate? To live or die?
Decision making a tough thing to do,
As a blizzard of confusion sweeps my mind away everyday.
To fight or to negotiate?
Well I would do anything to change this,
Anything at all just to make the pain go away.
But I have no clue what to do,
Torn by love and hate,
I have absolutely no idea in mind.
Should I hurt or should I talk it out?
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