HOME | DD

Description
How can I write happy, when all I feel is sad?
How can I write passionate, when all I feel is empty?
How can I write love, when all I feel is hurt?
How can I write heaven,  when all I feel is hell?
How can I write freedom, when all I feel is captured?
How can I write content, when all I feel is jealousy?
All I feel is true, yet all I am is false.
What am I to my friends? Myself?
Am I only a part?  A string in one big rug?
What happens when I break?
Will the rug fall to pieces around me?
Or will it go on, as if I was never here?
Or, is it that I am made of strings?
These strings tie me to others.
To myself.
Over the years, some break and some keep weaving.
Getting closer and closer to my whole being, my very soul.
What happens when those strings break?
Where will they go?  Where will I go?
How can I write emotions, when all I feel is anger?
But,
Someone once told me that anger is the root of all emotions.
The passion grows from it, to form other emotions,
Until it becomes it's opposite.
Anger becomes sadness
Sadness becomes joy
And joy becomes wholeness
How can I write mercy, when I am corrupt?
I'm the one that's broken!
Why do I fix others?
Is it fair?
Does it have to be?
But perhaps it IS fair.
Because really,
We are all broken.

Description
How can I write happy, when all I feel is sad?
How can I write passionate, when all I feel is empty?
How can I write love, when all I feel is hurt?
How can I write heaven,  when all I feel is hell?
How can I write freedom, when all I feel is captured?
How can I write content, when all I feel is jealousy?
All I feel is true, yet all I am is false.
What am I to my friends? Myself?
Am I only a part?  A string in one big rug?
What happens when I break?
Will the rug fall to pieces around me?
Or will it go on, as if I was never here?
Or, is it that I am made of strings?
These strings tie me to others.
To myself.
Over the years, some break and some keep weaving.
Getting closer and closer to my whole being, my very soul.
What happens when those strings break?
Where will they go?  Where will I go?
How can I write emotions, when all I feel is anger?
But,
Someone once told me that anger is the root of all emotions.
The passion grows from it, to form other emotions,
Until it becomes it's opposite.
Anger becomes sadness
Sadness becomes joy
And joy becomes wholeness
How can I write mercy, when I am corrupt?
I'm the one that's broken!
Why do I fix others?
Is it fair?
Does it have to be?
But perhaps it IS fair.
Because really,
We are all broken.