The less you know about me, the better off you are. more »
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Sierra Staten Poems
I can look into your eyes and try to find honesty But honesty is something I'm not sure I can define. Honesty is the truth. We hide so many things from one another
I'm apologizing early, Because I already know I will be forever missed But it's my time to go
Unread Lines Of My Existence
The ink inside this pen can hold so many words, it's strange, I describe so many things, or can sadly rearrange, And love or tears of sorrow, which will leave this paper stained, But in the end if no one reads, is love what I have gained?
I Hate Her
I hate her I hate her I hate her she's annoying
Born In The Bad World
Born into a world of hate, Love forbidden, hidden fate. Born into a world so cold, Tattered, torn-
I Cherish My Sun
Today my world forgot its depressing fog. Today I was allowed to see the sun, the sun I've missed for so long. Not the same sun, a new one. A sun that's shines brighter.
Why Won'T Anybody Help Me?
All my life I was surrounded by people.. Unhappy people, depressed people, suicidal people. They outgrew that. I grew into it. They know I'm on the edge.
My house is rotten at the foundation. At any time it can fall, and soon, it will fall. Many braces have been put up, and many people have been evicted from my house. I have become a pariah in this house of mine, the house that was once filled with many loving people;
I see it now, The difference between her and I. She is the kind one. The one who Is socially acceptable.
Strangely sitting, With an awkward smile.. Confused beyond belief Yet I'd walk a mile,
The Fact Of Life
The fact of life is, we won't be happy all the time. More than half the time we will be stressed. Sad. Angry.
Some believe me to be shy, however I am not. I am private. I enjoy my privacy and if you invade it there will be punishment.
Death Keeps Me Alive
I look forward to death -It's the only thing that keeps me alive. It's the only thing that keeps me sane in a world filled with insanity. Knowing that someday these voices of terror will not fill my mind any longer. Knowing that someday I will be in a place that nobody can disturb me,
Strong Heart, Weak Mind
Even when you try to talk about yourself, There's certain bits and pieces kept hidden for all eternity. You know that if you release the information it will allow you to become sane again, yet, you hold it inside. You're screaming on the inside, mentally pleading for somebody to listen,
I can look into your eyes and try to find honesty
But honesty is something I'm not sure I can define.
Honesty is the truth.
We hide so many things from one another
In hopes to make ourselves a more likeable being
But in doing that we are creating lies.
Walking lies, that's what we are.
Honesty means nothing anymore,
Those considered the most honest of people hide things unimagined
And create a realm where there is no such thing as honesty
all in an attempt to maintain the title of 'honest'
Nobody is the person they say they are.
Granted some are more ...