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Turmoil
by Paul LittleTurmoil
You were the one at the front,
The one who never spoke up.
You knew the answers all along
But didnt want to give just cause,
To those you called your peers,
To tease you or beat you up.
You were always too slim or too tall,
Even when they had no reason
They would still have a go.
You always used to go home alone
And sit in your room with headphones on,
Drowning the noise from the world outside,
Dreaming of the way to a better life.
Comments have been passed to that effect,
That youre a loner and a dreamer.
They ask if youve got a problem,
But of course you have not.
You are in fact a victim,
To the weakness of those around you.
As the hours turned into days,
Your real home became your room
And solitude your main companion.
You learn to make yourself invisible,
To look down at your feet
As you walk along lifes roads.
You speak to yourself, mostly out loud,
Anything to break the monotony of silence.
When its late at night
And darkness casts its black veil,
You sit and wait for the demons to arrive,
Invading your mind spreading fear and despair,
You recant the incidents of hurt and embarrassment
That have haunted you for most of your life.
All the things you should have done but never did,
All the decisions you made that cannot be reversed 08/14/2002 Posted on 08/14/2002
Copyright © 2025 Paul Little
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/04/03 at 05:27 PM A turmoil I'm sure we all can relate to in our own way and in varying degrees, at various times of our life. Can definitely see myself in this Paul. |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 08/17/04 at 01:10 AM Good poem Paul. I talk to myself when I am writing a poem in my mind. I do it to see how it meters and sounds. People stare at me as if to say look at that crazy guy talking to himself...Charlie
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