Stop The Pain
(This is a punk rock/emo song I made, but it works as a poem.)
Get me to the moment,
In the present, in the act,
‘Cause to get the timing right,
Is giving me a heart attack.
The unknown fracturious state,
Of my body and my home,
Sends me puking in the shower,
’Cause it’s all I’ve ever known, to,
Stop the pain!
This post-traumatic, self-inflicted,
Constant pain!
No matter how much I pay,
It never goes away.
— — —
I’ve lived with fear all my life,
Intimidation, spare the rod,
In a dysfunctional family,
In this nation over God.
Power hungry politicians,
Poisoned profits as their mission,
My depression and anxiety,
Both fight for ignition,
Too many cooks in the kitchen to,
Stop the pain!
This stress-inducing, time-consuming,
Constant pain!
No matter the time of day,
It never goes away.
— — —
It's always the calm,
Before the storm,
It’s always the quiet,
Before battle.
I’ve never had stage fright,
But I’ve been frightened all my life,
For when my home goes to war.
Will I be ready?
Will we be ready?
I’ve been nothing but ready,
For a storm.
There is no time for weeping,
No time for thinking,
No time for feeling,
In a war.
And nothing to,
Stop the pain!
This genocidal, constant cycle of,
Constant pain!
No matter how much I wish war was away,
I’m living the plot of “Cabaret,”
No matter how much I miss the good old days…
The Storm. Is. Coming.
