Wasted

Wasted, through my care.
Unrequited,
My care, empty yet felt,
Meaningful in its truth.
But lost all the same.

My feelings wasted,
My feelings spent.
Oh how I cared,
Oh how I care.

Afraid to be hurt again.
Even though I care.

Sad, that how I feel,
All of me,
Wasted.
Sad to see my feelings,
Splayed out across the wall,
The wall of my mind.
A hurtful reminder,
Wasted.

A sadness comes over me,
Seeing you,
Wanting to help you,
Wanting you happy.

But in the end.
All my feelings.
Wasted.


I know it’s a sad poem, I’m not sad, happy, had a good day and tried so hard to help a really good friend. Someone I care about with the whole world.

It’s just a moment, painful, hurtful, overthinking. It will pass, it always does. But the feelings, the care, doesn’t.

But it’s okay, I care. And it’s wasted. I’m wasted.

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Hurting Questions

As I sit thinking.
Grand piano playing,
Mind thinking and whirring.

Pondering and thinking,
Through these hurtful questions.
Wonderings.
Overthinkings,
But trying to stay afloat,
But it grasps at my mind.
A question.

One hurting,
One unknown,
One unsure.
A question,
Shrouded in uncertainty,
Faking hope.

Trying to carry on.
As I sit here thinking.
Sit here hoping.
Sit here trying not to think.

Thinking through these hurtful questions.

Wish I Could Show

Wish I could show,
Show how I care,
To show what I feel.
Show what I mean.

Wish I could explain,
Explain.
Your beauty.
To show you,
How I feel,
What I mean.

Show how you make me feel,
How you make me better.
Hoping I make you happy.

This world,
Full of uncertainty,
One thing I know.
How I feel.
In a world full of uncertainty.

Should I show?
Or should I erase?
Having tried before,
It failed,
When you came back into my life.

Wish I could show.
Wishing I.
Wishing I could show you,
What I feel,
What I mean.

Wishing I could show you.

To Start Afresh

To start afresh,
Needs a change,
To throw away the old,
Make anew, renew, refresh.

How is this to be done?
Throwing away my memories,
Mind, emotions and self.
To make a change.

A well-needed change.
A time afresh.
Waiting,
To make this change.

Make myself anew.

It is hard.
But must be done.

The pain of now,
To alleviate the pain of a tomorrow that hasn’t come.

Off I tread,
To start afresh.


I don’t know if the poem sounds bad or that I’m down, but I’ve really had a nice day and a post I have read on WordPress has got me thinking.

Anger for a Lie

The lies you shared,
Refusing me the dignity of being,
Leaving me in torture,
Under your foot.
Broken and controlled.

Only others showed me your lies,
Gave me decency on your behalf when you refused.
Showed me basic human respect when you denied me.

Thrown off my chains,
Tearing my self out,
Out of the hurtful lies,
The bad situation.
The wrecked mind I had to piece back.

You, the orchestrator of my demons’ symphony.


Thinking of the past, how someone treated me, something I tried to forget. But stuff is happening like the same as before.

Finished writing later, not feeling so bad, a walk home, time to think, space, some good news and errands has put me in a better mood.

Cutting Myself Off

Cutting myself off,
Misunderstood, left in the unknown,
Unable to help those I care about.
Left out of the picture.

Patterns repeat,
Pain comes again.
Being warned away,
But not taking heed.
Needing to cut off.
To save myself.
Needing to cut off,
To protect, to help, to live.

I do not want to,
Cut away the feeling.
But it may save me,
By killing a major part.

A decision of me,
Decision of mine.
One I do not want.
Cannot take.

Funny,
How some things change.
How most others stay the same.


Feeling quite sad, sad I cannot help, that they do not know. The latter is for the best, but brings me great pain.

Considering legitimately, now, the first time in a long time. To cut myself off.

They have a friend, do not need me. I’m only the help for work, company or motivation.

I can do all those things for myself, but not worth doing it for another, if it only brings pain. But that’s the hard part.

It doesn’t only bring pain, but brings something so worth it, the feeling, that it makes the pain worth it.

I know this feeling, may be overthinking. But even then, one truth I know, my overthinking, is usually right, is the truth, but one I do not want to come to terms with. I need to. I have to.

Seems like it’s decision time for me. One I will make tonight, one way, or another.

To Bear the Rough

To bear the rough,
To save you from my pain.
To bear the rough.
To form my path and make my way through.

Nothing to stop me,
To bear the rough, to help you.
Thinking, making, helping.
To bear the rough,
To make my way,
For all my friends,
To help,
To make,
To bear the rough,
To make my way.

A place to come from,
A path to take.
My time to bear the rough,

For those I truly care for,
To bear the rough.


Poem I’m writing, after the time I came up with the title, (10.30pm 28/11/17 – when I came up with the title and ‘felt’ the poem). I date it to when it was written completely. While writing later is for convenience as I may not have time in a busy day of work.

Wrote, I’m again feeling better than when I came up with the poem, just was thinking, thinking happily, what care truly means, what love does. To care for yourself, to also care for another. To help another, to carry a burden while they weather the storm, and to hide under their cover, while you weather your storms out. Thinking of someone I care about.

Idea 10.30pm, 28/11/17

Note to self: Most poems are published when written (and title made up). The few tonight are an exception I had made the names of the poems, while feeling them. Now I only need to write the rest and publish:

Memory of a Time
Reluctant Tear
Hate that I Love You, But I do.
To Bear the Rough

Reluctant Tear

A reluctant tear,
Thinking of my leaving.
Could I hurt you?
Like that, again?

A reluctant tear runs down my face,
Fearing to lose you,
Knowing I have to.

The tear in my conscious,
Should I leave?
May it hurt you?
I fear losing,

But know, somehow I must.
In the end it may be better.
It may save you,
From me,
My confusion,
My endless care.

I fear it may end up hurting you.

This reluctant tear,
Running down my face,
Thinking,
Feeling.
Always, you,
My focus, consideration,
To do what’s best for you,
Even if you don’t know it.
Even if I’m reluctant to let go.
All in care.

All in care.
This reluctant tear,
Runs down my face.
As I stand thinking.
Of you,
Of why I must leave.
Wrestling with myself over the idea.

Off I walk, after turning my back.
A reluctant tear, for a reluctant walk.
Your photo in hand,
Your memory in mind,
My care for you, in my heart.
So much so say,
That I must not.
To make it easier for you to forget.
In a reluctant tear.


Poem I’m writing, after the time I came up with the title, (9pm 28/11/17 – when I came up with the title and ‘felt’ the poem). I date it to when it was written completely. While writing later is for convenience as I may not have time in a busy day of work.

Wrote, thinking of a friend, one I care about the most, would always help. One I love. But, I have a decision, one I’ve made and not kept. Over if I should leave, when, how. May seem bad. But the only thing on the top of my mind is them, my feelings wont go away, never have. I care about them, more than I can explain or know. Know this won’t change. I don’t want to hurt them, as I have many times in the past.

I know I may have to leave them, maybe without a trace would be better, or to hurt them (clearly with me being in the wrong) so they can hate me, and get rid of me. It’ll hurt, more than I can imagine to do this, the very thing I don’t want to. But. Maybe hurting someone spares them more pain than leaving them without giving them a reason to hate me.

I honestly right now, am okay as publishing this, these are the thoughts I had before, but am still thinking of now, still potentially relevant now, but feeling better than when I made the title.

Idea 9pm, 28/11/17

Note to self: Most poems are published when written (and title made up). The few tonight are an exception I had made the names of the poems, while feeling them. Now I only need to write the rest and publish:

Memory of a Time
Reluctant Tear
Hate that I Love You, But I do.
To Bear the Rough

For You I Say

For you I say,

I care,
More than you can know.
So much that it hurts,
But it’s worth that.
Would do anything I can for you.

For you I say,
Your beauty, uncompared,
Kindness true,
Compassion you showed,
Trying, once before, to help me.

For you I say,
Know your worth.
Know yourself and prosper.

For you, I say,
I will never try to hurt you,
But what if I have to go?
To hurt you less.

For you I say,
You are not my day,
But you never fail to make it brighter.

For you I say,
When I hear that favourite song,
Only you I see.
Remembering the memories.

For you, I apologise.
That I cannot explain.
My thoughts and feelings.
I only feel them.
I cannot help them.

For you, I remember,
The first time we met,
And every time since.
No matter what’s happened,
There are no regrets.

I am flawed,
But I am me.
Trying to be ever-better.
Unapologetically. Me.

For you I say,
No matter how you compare yourself,
Unfavourably attractive than others,
I do not see.
All I think of is you.

For you I say,
You never have to be alone,
I’ll help with all I can.
Do all I can.
No matter how much it hurts.
Because I care.
For you I say I care.

For you I end,
Saying…
Maybe it’s the ramblings of a madman,
A lovestruck madman.
But this is me.
For you I say,
This is me.
All I can offer.