In The Shadows

man-shadow_pic

In The Shadows

In the shadows,
I stand there,
Not being perceived,
In the shadows,
Going nowhere,
With nothing achieved.
In the shadows,
I am hushed,
Not making a sound,
In the shadows,
I’m crushed,
Into the ground.
In the shadows,
Of society,
I’m a recluse,
In the shadows,
So silently,
Not letting loose.
In the shadows,
I’m isolated,
Observing all,
In the shadows,
Frustrated,
I begin to fall.
In the shadows,
Deserted,
Feeling ignored,
In the shadows,
Alerted,
And not adored.
In the shadows,
I explore,
Without a voice,
In the shadows,
Forever more,
Without a choice.
In the shadows,
My life,
Has become,
In the shadows,
My life,
Since it begun.

A poem by Corey Booth

Twitter – @CoreyPoetry

Sinister

my_evil_soul_by_davidino86

Sinister

Look inside my soul,
At the demons that lie within,
Look inside my soul,
I’m willing to let you in.
Peer at the carnage,
That lies deep inside,
Peer at the carnage,
That can’t be justified.
Gaze at my ghost,
And see my sinister past,
Gaze at my ghost,
And see how long you last.
Glare through those angel eyes,
At the slaughter I’ve applied,
Glare through those angel eyes,
At the darkness I provide.
Glimpse within my body,
At the hellfire in my veins,
Glimpse within my body,
At the demons it contains.
How are you going to feel,
When you snoop inside my mind?
How are you going to feel,
About the corruption you will find?
As a person you will change,
When you observe this inner gore,
As a person you will change,
With this misery you cant ignore.
You will never be the same,
When you see what I have done,
You will never be the same,
These sins cannot be undone.

A poem by Corey Booth 12/07/13 …… 🙂
Twitter – @CoreyPoetry

Some Days… -My Life #3

IMG_3234.JPG

SOME DAYS……

Having a conversation,
I’m the only one talking,
Embodied in a war,
In my mind it’s fought in.
Asking questions to myself,
Answered then unanswered,
Decided then undecided,
Right,left, always divided.
Anxious about being anxious,
Paranoid about being paranoid,
Depressed about being depressed,
Stressed about being stressed.
Questioning my questions,
Thinking of thinking,
Overthinking as the thoughts sink in,
Now I feel as if I am sinking.
This becomes more troublesome,
Not all understand as it only troubles some.
I guess some days,
Are better than some days,
And I hope someday,
The thoughts will go away,
Maybe one day…..

A Poem By Corey Booth 03/10/16
Follow @CoreyPoetry on Twitter 🙂

Loose Term

image

Loose Term

“This music is making me depressed”,
“This film is making me depressed,
“There’s nothing to do, I’m so depressed”,
“This writing is making me depressed”….

People say to me,
“What you write is Emo”,
What that really means though,
Even though the words ain’t alive,
I actually make it seem so.
When they say that though,
It makes me proud of the words I’ve put on the shelf,
I’m putting my pen to paper,
While conquering the inner evil that lurks inside myself,
People can actually feel the story,
Even though it has no health…

Lets just remember,
These are the people,
Who have never suffered with the term,
And even though they think they know the true meaning,
They have never felt it’s true burn..
I guess what I’m trying to say,
People who make these remarks,
Are the people who have never been depressed,
So I understand what they are saying,
While hoping they never get that demon as a guest…

A poem by Corey Booth – 21/03/16

Follow me on Twitter 🙂 – @CoreyPoetry

A Bipolar Point Of View

BiPolar_by_PinkDestroller

A BIPOLAR POINT OF VIEW

Bipolar is the name,
That’s what made her flip at her boss,
A conversation so little,
That made her feel so cross,

Her unshared beliefs,
Are what got her in the wrong,
One minute her mind was there,
The next it had gone.

She retreats to her home,
Thoughts racing through her head,
She is anxious and worrying,
Over all the stuff she has said.

At the time it was the correct way,
She was confident she was in the right,
I guess her poor judgement let her down,
Now she hopes it will be alright.

She continues to sit there,
Feeling euphoric and high,
One minute she’s calm and collected,
The next she is wanting to die.

Along with her risky behaviour,
She feels extreme irritability,
Feeling like a loose cannon,
Suicide is a possibility.

She finally heads out of the house,
To get booze and drugs to take away the stress,
At one point she was feeling like a genius,
Now she’s in a mess.

She buys excessively,
On things she don’t even need,
From clothes and toiletries,
To vodka and weed.

She goes back home,
And starts to hear things around her,
She’s starting to panic,
And the noise’s seem to grow louder.

These noises have been caused,
By her increased deficiency of sleep,
And her lack of concentration,
Which has made her mind very weak.

All of a sudden she is back on track,
Analysing what she has done,
Thinking about what she has caused,
And how it can be undone.

She has manic depression,
A character of two sides,
What she says isn’t in her control,
It’s her brain that decides.

A poem by Corey Booth – 30/06/13

Twitter – @CoreyPoetry