Through Eyes of Jaded Hope

Locked in this book you shall see, the way of the world seen by me.
I am not rude, unkind or unjust, I simply say what I feel I must.
If my words hurt you in anyway, I'm sorry and please turn away.
If my words inspire you to write yourself, then don't place this book upon a shelf.
Keep reading, keep going deeper, and deeper, maybe the answer you'll find if you linger.
I've written on topics I know nothing about; but I do it right, there is not a doubt.

This is my escape from the world we know, and these are my feelings I let show.
This is how I release my pain silently, unknown by anyone else but me.
This is how I cry those tears so wet, as alone in the dark I have sat.
I have mourned, I have been overjoyed, I have wished my life would be depolyed.
There are poems locked behind these covers you'd never see, unless written by someone like me.
Poetry is not a dying skill nowadays, even as the dying sun casts it's final rays.

Poetry is alive and well in young hearts all around, they just keep quiet without a sound.
I bet if you look in each young high schooler's room, you shall find they see it like a tomb.
They write out their anger, their lust, and their pain, and how they feel they've left not a stain.
Like the world wouldn't miss them at all if they've left, if Death came and made that theft.
They don't see their value in their own lives just yet, sadly some won't make that bet.
This is many high schooler's silent help cry, as help is too late they always ask why.

Read on into this jaded world of my own, as in these pages these's words I've sown.
Read on at your own leasure or don't read at all, but sit there and say I’ve got the gall.
This is a book full of each different feeling, each one has it's own special meaning.
Don't read this book any farther if you are easily offended, if life is peachy you have pretended.
You shall be mad at me for the words I say, but I shall not back down any day.
I stand by my words, each and everyone, and I will still stand when the day is done.