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Although I've tried for years, it's not enough.
Although I've lived for years, life is still rough.
I thought I'd reach nirvana--win the game,
but on it goes and days remain the same.
I've saved my pennies for a day of rain,
but rain it did and then it rained again.
This life's a marathon that has no end,
and happiness has always been pretend.
I've made up my persona as I went,
and though I've lied, it feels wrong to repent.
I've made a life to please the world at large,
so sentence me and I will own that charge.
I've never wronged another with intent;
I've tried to keep up, people don't relent.
I thought my work and act would surely lead
me to a laurel bush; it's still a seed.
I hid behind a mask for years and years,
that stunted growth and reduced me to tears.
A broken man whose work produced no show,
I long for peace, for life to let me grow.
But on I go, and unbeknownst to me
the reason for my being: mystery.
My voice is somewhere in here deep inside,
but all I know to do in life is hide.
I'm getting cabin fever, let me out!
I'm ready to be me and build some clout
on things that bring fulfillment, love, and joy.
I do not want to die a little boy.
© 2014 Nicholas Emeigh
Read by the Author
Featured by the Poetry Foundation in their group "Record-A-Poem." Also part of the Playlist "The Poetry of Nicholas Emeigh" which includes 40+ other poems.
Notes: This poem was written on January 16, 2014 about struggling to make it in life by creating a persona, getting nowhere, then trying again to make it in life as your true self.
The unique works displayed on the pages herein are © 1997-2013 Nicholas Emeigh. Use is restricted.
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