Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

No more apologies
No more help
No more replies.

No more well wishes
Nor the handed kindness
I'm tired of the lies.

Why should I bother
When there's nothing in it for me
The selflessness of my own now fades.

So many mine here on the page
Too few who dare to speak
And I become slightly irate.

So why I ask should I give
Only to fade away into black
Where oblivion awaits me to fall?

I say I'm done with replies and well wishes
Fuck the apologies and help
The kindness, the lies.....I'm done with it all!

righteous anger Jess.....an awakening of sorts, that epiphany that comes often from being taken advantage of....sadly, it's like this ( and I've had personal experience)...some folks confuse kindness with weakness....and that perceived weakness , is just something to be exploited for their own use....setting boundaries will get you respect....I learned the hard way
don't give up on your true nature to be giving....parcel it out at the right times

that's my two cents, which won't buy you a thing....but your poem does resonate with me

Oh dear saw you're two cents may not have bought me anything but your insight is always welcome. Seems like we all forget sometimes that we are not only the victim of loss but the giver of it as well.

This is a from-the-heart poem. I feel the emotion.

I'm not sure about this one line.

So many mine here on the page

It seems awkward to my ear. The next line is right on.

Too few who dare to speak

"Too many mine here on the page"
That was meant to stir the mind a bit. It's meaning pertains to much in my life, past present and future. Feeling invisible with arrogant people in my life isn't easy. But now I have one who reads every bit of who I am, I just wish he wasn't so damn afraid.