Saki
A failed artist, student, daughter and friend
- Mar 22, 2021
- 188
When do you know it's time to stop?
Keep walking, keep walking—until you drop.
That's what they say, that's what they think,
But you look around, and your eyes blink.
I have been going for many years,
I've tried to find so many peers,
But I seem to have lost them— When was that time?
When living for myself didn't feel like a crime.
I keep walking, do as I'm told,
But with the years, I'm growing old.
I walk with no aim, I walk with no purpose,
I am aware—I hide behind a thick surface.
Life does indeed have many paths,
But time has filled my soul with wrath.
I don't desire to walk any more ways,
Nor do I feel the need to stay.
You tell me to keep chasing hope,
But all life is, is a hard-core cope.
We search for meaning—drugs, love, power, or duty—
But humans? No beauty.
We drink our heads full, till they fall off,
We take love by force—it's never enough.
We trick for power—you can't deny,
We lie about duty, 'cause you're not a "bad guy."
This poem has no meaning,
No significance around—
Just like my voice
Will one day be underground.
The poem is written by human hand, but corrected by an ai.What can I say my grammar SUCKS. Anyway here's a doodle of a cat with anxiety
As they say I like to say in my mother tounge. Wenn alle Stricke reißen, habe ich noch immer die Kunst
Keep walking, keep walking—until you drop.
That's what they say, that's what they think,
But you look around, and your eyes blink.
I have been going for many years,
I've tried to find so many peers,
But I seem to have lost them— When was that time?
When living for myself didn't feel like a crime.
I keep walking, do as I'm told,
But with the years, I'm growing old.
I walk with no aim, I walk with no purpose,
I am aware—I hide behind a thick surface.
Life does indeed have many paths,
But time has filled my soul with wrath.
I don't desire to walk any more ways,
Nor do I feel the need to stay.
You tell me to keep chasing hope,
But all life is, is a hard-core cope.
We search for meaning—drugs, love, power, or duty—
But humans? No beauty.
We drink our heads full, till they fall off,
We take love by force—it's never enough.
We trick for power—you can't deny,
We lie about duty, 'cause you're not a "bad guy."
This poem has no meaning,
No significance around—
Just like my voice
Will one day be underground.
The poem is written by human hand, but corrected by an ai.What can I say my grammar SUCKS. Anyway here's a doodle of a cat with anxiety
As they say I like to say in my mother tounge. Wenn alle Stricke reißen, habe ich noch immer die Kunst
Last edited:
