fear is a strange thing,
a funny thing.
it chokes your breath
but leaves your body here.
I sowed myself upon the hills
as a bird perches against the sky
nature loved while nature bit
human nature is the worst of all.
what happened once happened again,
just the way we knew it would.
were we blind? a careless thought,
we knew, but still, we carried on.
our fear was put on the anvil,
and the smith's hammer pummeled away
it emerged a brilliant crystal shard
shaped and sharpened as clear as day.
when the jackboots clicked down on our doorstep
and the sky and the hills all ran grey
I ran and I ran again, once again
to find that the world had forgotten.
YOU ARE READING
sometimes
ŞiirA collection of mentally ill poems about the world, written by a mentally ill person. Perfect if you're into abstract or freeform poetry. New updates come at random times, but expect slightly consistent updates at least once a week or so! Top 10 in...
