Untitled

This pain I feel
Why does it have to be so real
I listen for a moment
to hear what's being said
and wondering if I'm being mislead
for all the things not read
left to be seen by no other
as I go down the road of insecurities
they show no mercy
and the trials of life
never fading or ceasing
my minds troubled by pieceing
to gather what's left of a poets story
that's not told, there's no future
to hold for a poet who seems
to be living within
a land of broken dreams
untold by the people who made it this way
in the words they never say.