craft ChancelorPuddinghead's Poems Continued

[ChancelorPuddinghead 47]

So here's a poem I wrote about time.

Tweaking

Spoiler

The past is complete

Nothing more to do with it

Not even just a little tweak

Will do any good to it.

The story is done

There's no more to tell.

Once you finish a book

It's already complete,

You can't complete a finished book.

 

The future’s story is untold

A block of clay yet to sculpt

Into a bright shining star.

But mysterious as you are,

It may not turn out like you ordered

When the future turns to the present world,

The package arrived

And it's not a star

In it holds your biggest struggles so far

The present turns to past

What is to become is already done.

We can't tweak the future

Because the future is in the past.

 

This next poem is about insanity. It's about how you can do better. It's about pushing yourself to try harder in life. When the person in the poem jumped, it symbolizes that they finally tried in life. It's written about insanity because I think that insane people have a bigger imagination. Don't quote me on that, because I didn't do any research. 

Where I am Now

Spoiler

My mind is wandering too close to the cliff

Please help me live.

I live in a world too far from the edge

We never see the outside fields

The outer dimensions

To what is real

And what is something that is not.

 

On the edge between reality and insanity,

One more jump

Then say goodbye.

This isn't really humanity

Is it?

 

In this dump

Where I am now

In insanity

Is a world unknown

To most of us

But known or not

It is real

Unlike what you thought.

 

I am insanity

And so are you

If you only start living

Outside of your life

No boundaries

No limits

No gravity keeping us down

Your life is more than a cardboard box

Use the tools

And go outside

You're the boss of your own mind

I love where I am now

 

My only explanation for this one is if you hate math, read this poem.

Math and Problems

Spoiler

The boringness of math homework

Is all so real

Math is a jerk

I'm at lunch

With a textbook

Trying to figure out this math issue

⅓x+89c=⅖y+113

 

My mind is full of tissues

It's sick of all this math

Why can't this all just go away

I'm sick of the problem, and it's sick of me.

I'm sick of my brain malfunctioning!

 

The math problem isn't the issue

The problem is the math

 

Now this one is basically a long and exaggerated way of saying I don't have nightmares because I'm not afraid of something that isn't real. Don't worry, everything else in this poem is totally made up for it to sound like a good poem.

What's More Hatred Than Nightmares?

Spoiler

Dreams are like my escape to a fantasy land

In another dimension at night

And by day it's back to sight

Pure evil sight

I wish I could unsee what I see

Unhear unfeel in this reality

 

I might have dreams

That most call nightmares

But really, who cares?

I'm not breathing real air

 

Dreams are like death

Dreams give us scars

They say

They make you think something is living and real

But when you wake up it disappears

Give all your hopes up

Throw your own fake life away

For nothing they say

For nothing

 

But is it really all that bad?

Even nightmares

Are better than this hatred land

That’s why I don’t have horrible dreams

Since dreams are way better than reality

 

But what if we have it all wrong?

What if this world is your own little dream?

Or in my case, nightmare?

And dreams are your own reality?

What if life is not there

At all?

 

I have 3 more poems that I have already written, but I feel like waiting a few more days to post them, just in case later on I see something that I can make better. 

Please tell me if you liked them! Tell me which one is your favorite, too! I can't wait to show you more! If you have any input on how I can improve my poems, please go right ahead and tell me.