05-04-2017, 04:10 PM
Aren’t we all confined within our own cages, *** simply "Confined within our own cages" works better for me
Forced to wander through the ages.
Strolling ever so serenely,
Through all the grass and crafted scenery? ***"crafted, grass scenery" or something like it would evoke more imagery to me...
Through the halls of time
We tumble and stumble, and yet not a single grumble,
Is heard within the chime
Of this ever-familiar rhyme we mumble. *** I'm a such for internal rhymes...so, me like!***
I’m sick of this constant flow
No highs, no lows, just a simple Joe.
This familiar tune we play,
Each and every single day.
Never ending. Serenading.
The same old streets we stroll through each day,
Same greetings, same faces, same goddamned Mondays.
I’m sick of being alive *** something here & next sentence doesn't work for me
If being alive is what this is *** maybe the whole thing uses "alive" too much?
Where is the drive? The strive?
Being alive?
Yet perhaps it’s better this way,
Don’t rekindle this snuffed out flame.
Let someone else be the armored knight,
Riding into glory within the light. *** "into the spotlight" ... just a thought
Us commoners, what good do we know?
We’re just castaways, relics from an old yesterday.
Those hopes, visions, and dreams we once followed?
Ha! Who would have believed all that mumbo jumbo?
Maybe we’re all just miserable cargo *** got to be a better rhyme here imho
Doomed to ride this train indefinitely,
For all damned eternity.
Leave us be,
To wallow in our own sorrow
And hope not, for a better tomorrow.
And when morning comes, I’ll be back in my cage,
No fire, no light a rather pitiful sight.
You’ll hear the sound of dirty tears falling,
Flowing through these halls,
Echoing.
***Final Thought: here's hoping that your optimistic about creating pessimistic poetry .... if that makes sense!!
Forced to wander through the ages.
Strolling ever so serenely,
Through all the grass and crafted scenery? ***"crafted, grass scenery" or something like it would evoke more imagery to me...
Through the halls of time
We tumble and stumble, and yet not a single grumble,
Is heard within the chime
Of this ever-familiar rhyme we mumble. *** I'm a such for internal rhymes...so, me like!***
I’m sick of this constant flow
No highs, no lows, just a simple Joe.
This familiar tune we play,
Each and every single day.
Never ending. Serenading.
The same old streets we stroll through each day,
Same greetings, same faces, same goddamned Mondays.
I’m sick of being alive *** something here & next sentence doesn't work for me
If being alive is what this is *** maybe the whole thing uses "alive" too much?
Where is the drive? The strive?
Being alive?
Yet perhaps it’s better this way,
Don’t rekindle this snuffed out flame.
Let someone else be the armored knight,
Riding into glory within the light. *** "into the spotlight" ... just a thought
Us commoners, what good do we know?
We’re just castaways, relics from an old yesterday.
Those hopes, visions, and dreams we once followed?
Ha! Who would have believed all that mumbo jumbo?
Maybe we’re all just miserable cargo *** got to be a better rhyme here imho
Doomed to ride this train indefinitely,
For all damned eternity.
Leave us be,
To wallow in our own sorrow
And hope not, for a better tomorrow.
And when morning comes, I’ll be back in my cage,
No fire, no light a rather pitiful sight.
You’ll hear the sound of dirty tears falling,
Flowing through these halls,
Echoing.
***Final Thought: here's hoping that your optimistic about creating pessimistic poetry .... if that makes sense!!