Jaded
Jaded poetry stories
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wethedreamers
wethedreamersAnd we're a million miles away.
Autoplay OFF  •  9 months ago
Unimpressed and stressed.

Jaded

by wethedreamers

I hate it. Being jaded. I wish that I was pure.

There's so much anger in me that has hardened my demure.

How I wish to be softer. Forgiving. Calm.

How I wish I carried love instead of hatred in my arms.

Gracefully light instead of heavily dark.

Blacker than nights of devilish storms.

I hate it, being jaded. Being over everything.

The sound of laughter, sights of green pastures; nothing impresses me.

To feel as if you've seen it all is quite a burdensome quilt.

Bundled and swaddled and overly coddled is not a life to live.

I feel hope inside me, hiding quietly, patiently waiting to come out.

But there I go, all morose, and back to the shadows it cowers.

So love will wait at my rusted gates until the neglect is faded.

Until then, I will mourn and sulk and scorn:

"Being jaded. How I hate it."

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