Poem I Like

I can see just when you're lying.
And we're all just slowly dying,
So you can't help me, I'll keep on crying.
It's the toll.

This is more than my regrets.
The decision was made and met,
And now I feel I've let you down...
I'm just too dull.

We sway softly to the words,
"This kind of pain don't have a cure"
and yet you're able to reel and lure
Me back around.

It's not okay that I am here.
I only did this out of fear
That all these days would turn to years.
You bring me down.

I don't really understand why whenever my family and I have a big get-together, I feel a lot more alone with them than when I was alone before they arrived. Maybe I am just a loner, but am I the only one who feels this way? I just feel so disconnected. Like we are not on the same page, perhaps not even reading the same book.

My mom is running around making sure everything is done and everybody is happy, so she is never around, and her face, of course, is always comforting. I'm never really sure what my dad is doing, I think last night he was cooking the hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill the whole party (it was my little brother Sammy's second birthday party last night). My aunt says "Hi." to me, after she strolls in an hour and a half late, and then is the first one to leave, and sometimes forgets to say bye. Disregarding the fact that three years ago, I was over at her house at least once a week. Now she is disconnected from the family, and I'm not really sure why.
I always feel like my dad's side of the family is uncomfortable, and it makes me sad. But then they make me uncomfortable with their unfailing ability to be louder than I thought possible. The kids run around, content and innocent, and I remember how awkward I am now, not a little girl but not by any means grown up. Nobody is able to relate to me, nobody is my age, nobody makes an effort to have a conversation. But I understand. I mean really, what is there to talk about with me?

They are my family; I am obligated to love, or at least tolerate, them. And I do love them. But really, why do I feel so... awkward and lonely and disconnected and so many other not-so-great adjectives whenever I see them?

I QUESTION MARK

Here is a poem I wrote, titled I Question Mark.

"Mark Cadaleer, do you ever cry real tears?
Alone but with your wife and kids, whom which you fear.
It is the same year after year, you beg to God to disappear;
As you call out to your wife, 'I hate you, Dear.'

"Mark, you're the guy/ who has a shoulder that we cry on everyday
It is a way to carry by.
And we suppose that you oppose how we survive.
We are like rags that you dispose of all the time.

"What makes a despondent family?
Together but ever-so-lonely,
Sitting in front of the self serving TV


"Mark, be a man, you have got to have a plan.
And you say that I'm the one who can't understand?
You think you're the one who has no fun, you shut out everyone
And debate whether you'll have the courage to finally shoot your gun."

Any criticism would be greatly appreciated!

#1 (Although, Dave Matthews would say 41)

I wonder what really makes a good blog, and what makes the blogger stick with it. I have tried to start a blog about three times, and I can't help by wonder: What makes a blog worth reading, and therefore, worth writing?

I suppose I'll just write about things that are important to me, and hope that it's interesting to other people. A lot of vulnerability in that, but we'll see how it goes. :)