Isn't

I don't usually write poetry. But it is good sometimes and it isn't very good but captures my thinking and feeling right now.

Isn’t no bed of roses
This crazy thing called life
Floating along sometimes
Sometimes drowning in amongst it all

Maybe it is a bed of roses
Paint the pretty picture
Red and yellow and white
Don’t talk of the thorns

Who will tend to this garden?
That is consumed by the spikes
And pains and tangles
They encompass me

Dig deeper and I become numb
Not the world I aimed to create
Life is overrated
But push through the adversity

Childhood fantasies and dreams
Listlessly blow away with hope
And love and joy
Fairytales aren’t reality

Tell me to keep pushing through
A promise awaits at the end
For those who survive
Can I survive?

Crumbling like the wet sand in my fingers
It lies and says it is strong and together
But apply the pressure and it breaks
Like me. Broken and not quite the same

My life is scattered like ashes
Of one who is deceased
But I am not
A broken life is a life

And a life is not dead
A life in shambles
Is still a life
A broken life can be repaired