I thought it would be easy,
So I became lax,
I let myself face everything without any preparation at all,
Here's what I get,
Too tired to even open my eyes and look up.
I thought that I'm strong enough,
So I let myself carry the full force of it ,
And ignored the aching and buckling of my shoulders and knees,
Here's my punishment,
Too bruised and beaten up,
Couldn't even recall a day I was not.
I thought it was just nothing,
So I gave in,
Savored every pleasant emotion known to man,
No matter how minuscule it was,
Every moment,
Every smile,
Every laugh.
Until it became everything,
And before I knew it,
It was already too late.
I was already too late.
So here I am,
A spent force,
Too tired to fight,
Too bruised to put myself together,
Too broken to be mended.
YOU ARE READING
Retrospect
عشوائيA compilation of lines that just sprout in my head. . . Shows the poet side of me that is often in a state of emotional instability. . .
