A Poet's Confession 3 Poem by Compton Wright

Spilling out the ink and replace it with my own blood to let others feel me
Only because I don't have the heart to tell the people that I care about
What's bothering me or what's troubling my thought process in my life
As remembering telling someone that life is like a story but as that quote
Echoes through my nerves as while everyone begin their happily ever after
I was still stuck contemplating on my once upon a time that continues to
Become missing as this book of life supposed to have millions of pages
I'm thinking I'm on the last page saying that 'that's all he wrote' but
I know better than thinking that my purpose has be fulfilled already
But see that the thing my creator made me to live my life but I have
No directions, no pathways, just an endless road that has been rigged
With spike strips of doubters and roadblocks of problems to surpassed

So I'm a lost wondering man looking for his place in the world but yet
For hours I prayed for an answer from my creator but no response given
I'm an questioner and far from a doubter but I have plenty of doubters
Who underestimates my abilities as I never have things given to me but
I have to work my hardest for the simplest tasks to be completed for me
Watching my brother and my mother at each other throats trying to steer
Into a better direction for all of us to walk but in reality we are all blinded
Pursing but yet not fully grasping our goals as we only meet our dreams
When we are in our slumber but I don't dream in my sleep anymore but
Who said I sleep anymore because I'm too busy pouring out my tears
Upon the conflicted thoughts of my theories of love as in order to love

Someone you have a spark of interest with that person but yet I need
A woman who is capable of thinking outside of the box not to see things
In just black and white, someone who has a creative mindset with constant
Thoughts running through and has no choice but to talk about them all but
Yet still trying to understand ignorance and what it feeds on and how to
Destroy it but yet that's like saying where the antidote for all STDs? Please!
Overdue for a bit of peace from all forms of struggle or drama but yet now
It's like a continuous contagious disease that never dies but only spreads

I hate the fact I can't finish you and put you in your grave but it takes
Time to witness a miracle happen in order to believe in faith nowadays
As this poem starts to end but have to admit to all of you but this is one
Part of my confession as a second part has to explain the rest of the pain
Like a confession does it lets out the guilt from all feelings boiled inside
Making you feel better inside but this is only part one so please stay and
Witness this poet let his words paint his perspective of his confession…