The Armour We Wear

“This is a poem I wrote at quite a dark time in my life about a year ago, transferred it straight from the notebook to here:”

I sit in a crowded café,

So lonely in the midst of so many people,

Watching their lives rush by.

Seemingly insignificant.

Un-inspiring.

Un-important.

Just like mine.

Childish tears prick at my eyes.

I push them back

reminding myself that the sadness I feel is a product of my own laziness.

We are all trapped inside an armor of our own making.

But nobody cares.

Nobody bothers to break free.

Instead we sit here and rot

Waiting for the inevitable.

Never knowing anything more that what we are conditioned to feel,

To think,

To be.

We are all the same,

Clones of each other living in different shells.

An urge to be different,

An urge to break free of this shell surfaces.

Impossible.

How can I break free when I don’t have the tools.

The weight of this amour crushes down on me;

I push back

Harder and harder, everyday

But it always wins.

I am always defeated.

Always too weak.

Snap.

Back to the present.

My lunch break is over.

Slowly I head back to the life I know I don’t want to live.

Maybe one day I will find my strength

Maybe I wont.

Either way this is not a life.

This is captivity.

And I will never stop fighting back.

Author: Strider

Originally published at comeasyouareblog.com