I Guess…

White, Dave. Life Tortoise. July 12, 2024, Dave White Illustrations.

White, Dave. Life Tortoise. July 12, 2024, Dave White Illustrations.

I used to wish I’d die so young,
A reckless tune my heart once sung.
A fleeting wish, a whispered dare,
A challenge tossed into thin air.


But time has taught me to refrain,
That life is loss but also gain.
I’ve seen the sorrow, felt the ache,
Yet somehow, love won’t let me break.


What if I left, just disappeared?
Would the world pause? Would echoes hear?
Would stars still shine, would waves still crash?
Would morning come, erasing past?


This week, we buried kids.
Last week, adults.
Next week, teens.
Yet hope still lingers in the in-betweens.


I guess…

I have no tears to lend today,

But silence speaks in its own way.

If life’s so fleeting, why stand still,

When love and dreams remain to fill?


For those we’ve lost, for those we keep,
For whispered names in endless sleep,
My heart still aches, but now it mends,
The song still sung, though it transcends.


Would you hate me if I only sighed,
When you told me a loved one died?
Would you judge me if I stayed composed,
When grief knocks twice but finds me closed?


Would you expect my tears to fall,
Like raindrops answering sorrow’s call?
Yet some hearts shatter without a sound,
And love still lingers underground.


I guess…


You’ll think I’m cold, detached, unkind,
But I have scars left behind.
I’ve lost so much, I’ve learned to be,
A little numb yet still set free.


Why do I rhyme about despair?
Because it keeps me breathing air.

Each verse, a bridge to something bright,
A candle flickering through the night.


It’s not the healthiest way to heal,
But poetry makes sorrow real.
Better than drowning in silent screams,
Better than losing my fragile dreams.


Maybe I’m broken, maybe a mess,
Or maybe this is life’s true test.
To keep on living, to still confess—
That hope remains, despite the stress.


To love, to lose, yet rise once more,
To stand and face what life has in store.
And though I stumble, though I bend,
I’ll fight to find my strength again.


I guess…


That’s just how we learn to mend.


Discover more from Poetic Bipolar Mind

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

  • The Art of Falling Apart

    The Art of Falling Apart

    “The Art of Falling Apart” is a haunting exploration of heartbreak, memory, and resilience. Each stanza unveils the lingering weight of love turned ghost, the torment of regret, and the strange beauty hidden in ruin. It’s a poetic reflection on pain, desire, and the fragile art of survival.

  • The Price of Identity

    The Price of Identity

    Dave White’s Sell Yourself and Kiana Jimenez’s Self-Worth reveal a stark meditation on value, vulnerability, and commodification. Fragmented human parts paired with currency echo the poem’s haunting verses of selling oneself piece by piece. Together, they confront the devastating cost of undervaluing identity, leaving us questioning what our worth truly is.

  • Stillness Woven in Color and Verse

    Stillness Woven in Color and Verse

    In Poetic Bipolar Mind’s Emotive Fusion Art, serenity becomes more than calm—it becomes eternal love. The illustration “Serenity” and the poem “Sunset Love” intertwine, merging tranquil landscapes with the tender embrace of timeless affection. Together, they transform silence into sanctuary and sunset into forever.

error: Content is protected !!