I don't belong here,
yet I stand here amongst
the darkest group of people.
They wander around the night
with their tragic dreams
on their small pale frames.

I ponder sometimes or is it
I wonder why they do this to themselves?
I do not know if I was that dark,
but if I was I wonder if I was that
melodramatic?

I watch with sadness in my eyes,
because they will never know
the tragic nature of being truly dark.
To be without the company of a good ear.
Or the feeling of a bleeding heart
that drives your soul.

I do not dare say that I am darker then
these dark creatures that drink from
the pool discontent, but rather
I know and felt a world more empty then
any have felt.

I still remember the bitter winter cold of
the lonelyiness in my soul.
Or the gnawing insanity of
the world around me.
I still remember darkness
and the smell of dispair.

In the end I watch with sad eyes,
and the question of what draws
me to their darkness.

07/29/2003

Posted on 07/29/2003
Copyright © 2024 Christopher Shin