Happy, Unhappy (Poem)
Happy, Unhappy (Poem) poems stories
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novice_key
novice_keyThese were all originally my rap lyrics.
Autoplay OFF  •  9 months ago
Why am I unhappy? I have so much that others would kill for, so why am I unhappy?

Happy, Unhappy (Poem)

Why am I unhappy?

I have so much that others would kill for,

So why the hell am I unhappy?

I should be happy because I have no disabilities,

I should be happy because I live in a world full with opportunities,

I should be happy because what’s the point of being sad?

We all have a limited life expectancy yet I’m still here wasting it on demonizing myself because I believe that I deserve to be frozen over this Hell.

D*mnit!

Everytime I see myself gaining even a sliver of confidence,

I drag myself down faster than dominos.

Give me one more chance that you’ll know that I will blow,

See myself happy for a second, then I’ll let it go.

I can’t tell the difference between being neutral or sad.

Wake up in the morning feeling this ache in my gut then towards the evening feeling tired as f*ck.

Come home after school and find myself deeper in this rut,

Where is the exit? The sky just goes up and up.

All alone with only my thoughts,

Feeling the loneliness pang through my heart.

Social deprivation, starving ovation, drowsiness discretion, desperation situations of the fondly ill.

Hesitation of seeing friends that you know will go,

Setting myself up for heartache, but can’t let that show

I must grow.

Learn from the mistakes but don’t let ‘em know.

Hold myself to expectations that feed on dissatisfaction.

Maybe then I’ll be a better person

Because who I am right now deserves forever desertion!

Being so captivated by the thoughts of death and the meaning of life.

Life holds no meaning, all of this is just a lie.

Some type of twisted teasing metaphor that says we have a purpose,

But that purpose—is just, to live.

But I don’t know how to live properly.

I wake up everyday,

Repeating the same cycle.

I forget what I did before this whole cyclone took over my brain of self questioning and dire cynical temptations.

My brain has been poisoned and I’m just trying to search for the antidote,

But every time I hold that glistening bottle in my hand,

My muscles give out and the next thing I know, I see the containments of the bottle spill on the floor.

But oh it doesn’t stop just there—I’ll try to lick up every spoonful it has prepared,

Suffer the glass chards slice open my tongue and cheeks then just stand there in disbelief.

For a second I feel lightness like a feather,

But then the monsters come back to fester.

It’s been a while since I have felt this guilt,

And for a split second I believed what sinners believe that I was finally free from the chains that hold me underground.

Unfortunately no.

But please: if I have only one personal wish in life,

I’d give away being a social butterfly,

A successful worker in my career of choice,

Instead, I just want to be content and happy.

Because why should I waste my life being unhappy?

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