Did something happen?
This innocent question I hear
Was it something I said?
What did I do?
Could you somehow see the invisible tears?
It’s been rough, I will say
This hasn’t been my year.
No, it wasn’t you.
Why, do you ask?
I can’t tell my story for my fear
You can trust me
Your secrets safe, I swear.
Tell me your story
I will listen
I will show you that I care
OK OK I shall bear my soul
Maybe you should take a seat
The story leads to darkness
Somewhere past the pain
Listen to the story of my pounding heart beat
I left the life I knew
Coldly killed my past
Would you do the same?
How might you feel?
The time has slipped away so fast
Something happened
I don’t know how
A hand
A look
More than we can handle now
Friends we were
Passion, lust, and fire flies
Today, tomorrow
Nevermore
Fall approaches, and the endless night dies
Waiting and lurking
Mental state of despair
Not a victim
Just need
Nothing short of a mad affair
Another shines, but not for long
Softer, sweeter, lost my mind
What is this?
Where am I?
Thankful. Sometimes the world is kind.
So here I am
Lost I was in lost I’ve been
No focus or lens
A scattered light
Floating outside of my skin
The seasons changed
To destroy the warmth once felt
Bleak and gray
Alone, I stand
Or maybe not with the new hand dealt
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Okay, I know it’s not great but some of it I’m digging.
2 comments
I didn’t get far enough into English to distinguish quality in poetry. If it’s from the heart, my judgement is that it’s good….. it’s the same way I feel about jazz
I feel that way about a lot of things, but I don’t see that as bad. Why would I want to enjoy something less by knowing more? Anyways. Thanks