I don't think I truly understand <br />the value of the pen and the paper in my hand <br />or the gift of simply reminiscing <br />and knowing there aren't any pieces missing <br /> <br />because I don't want holes in my memories <br />and I hope that my thoughts will go on for centuries <br />somewhere a new dream is unfolding <br />somewhere in my mind ideas are molding <br /> <br />my heart never beat until I heard the song <br />the one I had been aching to write along <br />I can't imagine things any other way <br />from the way that they are today <br /> <br />life is just a storyline to be followed <br />and time is just a theme to be borrowed <br />it always creates the illusion of waiting <br />the plot always has everyone debating <br /> <br />so what's it worth to keep on living? <br />so what's it worth to keep on giving? <br />so what's it worth to keep on trying... <br />when the characters will all be dying? <br /> <br />is it worth the loving and despising, <br />the wondering and agonizing? <br />is it worth all of the conversations, <br />when they all lead to confrontations? <br /> <br />I don't think I truly understand <br />how much determination and demand <br />is required to escape inevitable despair <br />when everybody knows life isn't fair<br /><br />Jade Leven<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/inevitable-despair/
