Dying from something – K.B

Dying from something

 

 

To breathe, to heave
The chest
While feeling
The blackness
Inside.

No, poverty
Is not romantic,
It pushes to vice

If you keep listening
To the radio
You’ll have the impression
Of being brainwashed,
Sorry can’t help it,

Apparently,
Everyone has the
Truth

The good are little
The bad are shining
Until the limit between
The two becomes
Foggy
And kills the mind.

We then fall
In the dark

In the corridors
Of hate and jealousy.

Resentment
Takes away
The last
Friends
Who
Are better
Off
And won’t help….

Disinformation
Seems to be the ideal
« Negative images is
The main criteria »

Have you ever entered
A living nightmare,
Endured so much
That you come to
Feel guilty about
Something ?

Well, if you think
You’re guilty for
No reason,

I push you softly

And I say to myself
And to you :

It’s not my fault,

It’s not your fault

Until the night
Becomes a welcoming
Cradle that will rock
You till morning.

I was dying from something,
Guilt and shame
Coz the bright side
Is too often a bad
Flattering image
Or an insulting
Reproach
That keeps
You under
Control.

We don’t have time
To filter,
We take in and suffer,

Until resignation
Kills the mood,
Kills the heart,

And fear starts
Crawling to make
A new empire
In another part.

I said stop,
The night air
Told me :
It’s not my fault.

Therefore,
I’ll stop feeling
Guilty
And stay alert.

Yours truly,

 

 

K.B

 
All rights reserved. 2019.

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