Juvenile Irony

Wrote this piece a while back. This came out at one of the lowest points I've had, and I haven't had very many, still young that I am. I'm not much into sharing poems, but I reckon that a blog deserves a part of your soul, so probably, as a conventional second post, let me try out reaching to you all. Hope you like it. It's something I feel, we don't do everyday: reaching out to that feeling within us to tell the truth. 

Juvenile Irony

The forlorn boyish silhouette lay on the deep black rocks

Staring at the stars off the desolate costal shore

How thoughts galloped inside his mind's race field

The eeriness of the silence soothing the better part of his heart

Dehiscence of the unspoken words

The emotional mayhem tiring his core

He sat up to the perfection of the crashing waves

Then, sniggered at the waste decorating the bay

Oh, he wanted to speak up

Oh, he wanted to stand up

Making the world a better place, 

Or so, had he sworn during his finer days

For at the root of despair lay lies

He was immersed in a sea of deceit

For as the ripples retracted, he saw truth

And lost, he could only reminisce about clearer memories

Friends, foes; he had got it all intwined 

Like drops of the ocean washing the sand particles

The hidden was, but a recognisable secret

So what do you do, when the known becomes a mystery

Lifting his soul, soothing his ache

The blue calming his burning red

Oh he wrote, to be washed away soon:

The truth matters, so tell it… no matter what...