#Poetry and #introspection: ” #Rules ” (2)

Here for Italian/original Version: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/03/03/poesia-regole-2/


Sometimes I get tired of thinking in certain ways,

I get tired of those who talk about ways of life,

as if only those existed … As if everyone’s life was the same,

as if there was only one way to deal with every situation and problem…

I get tired of seeing everywhere, the same arguments.

This desire to seek a logical explanation,

at any cost.

I don’t want to accept, all of this, what I am not and do not want to be.

I don’t want to convince myself of other’s ideas…

I want to be “me”.

I lost and sacrificed my identity, to please others …

Because I thought you had to be in another way….

Maybe I would have liked it more being “me” than in a way I thought I should be.

In short, in a natural way.

And now, rules, f***g rules …

Sometimes I think I get a lot (and I am grateful),

but very little that I need. Sometimes I believe that the desire to help me from others,

be more harm than the rest.

I often believe that these “rules” …

are just excuses for those who do not have enough desire or confidence to change,

to face life.

An “excuse” for those who have to give up.

I believe incompatibilities can be corrected,

that the characters can be “compensated”,

that we shouldn’t be with those who are similar to you,

Not necessarily. Indeed, it may be more harm than good.

I just know that because of these rules, of these … clichés, I’m lost.

Because of these things,

I can’t do anything anymore.

I can’t fight anymore.



I feel helpless, resigned, useless … whatever you want …

Basically, I’m broke.

I want to trust what I feel, I want my rules.

Believe in what I perceive, more than anything else.

I want my truth, about my life, about my every step and every choice.

When a man (or woman) stops believing in these things, fails.

I want a second chance,

I will not throw it away.

I would not waste what is given to me, on the contrary:

I would not waste it. I don’t spit in the dish where I eat, I do not regret my encounters, my feelings … I feel convinced of what I feel and I tried.

If you give me something that I care about, I would hold it tight…

I wouldn’t screw up things anymore.


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