My Yesterday

Nice poem 🙂

HarsH ReaLiTy

My yesterday sounds like a keyboard in the night.

A dying action creating failing words.

A bleeding of consonants and vowels in the hope of finding a voice.

A voice found and then buried alive.


His fingers move effortlessly, a memory in the night. My yesterday.

Common and lesser known foes. They come and they go and they go.

A burden borrowed is a burden owned. My burden. My life of strife.


They will holler at the moon and gloat upon deeds done.

They praise driving a man from his passion. And there his passion did lie for all to see.

A corpse of the past and ultimately what it really was. Letters… pure letters of opinion.

I bleed out as I wish for a nonexistent pen. An outlet to be remembered by.


Do I live for the moment or does the moment rule me.

Do I…

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About mypersonallthing

Musings from an unknown Writing about random things, books I'm reading and snippets from my daily life. View all posts by mypersonallthing

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