I hear them speak of a tunnel,
A tunnel dark and painful,
A tunnel with a beautifully blinding light at the end.I am familiar with this tunnel,
The darkness and the suffering,
The tears and the bleeding.But no one spoke of the turns.
This tunnel is always described to have a light,
A light you can see no matter where you are inside.But I cannot see this light.
The end I crave,
So bright and freeing,
So beautiful and happy,
Completely blocked from view.The tunnel that traps me,
It winds and winds,
Like an endless loop of hurt.It has been so long since I got stuck,
I do not believe there is a light here,
Not in my tunnel.I have accepted that my tunnel,
It does not have a light,
So why am I still searching?All of me wants to give up,
And succumb to its darkness,
But something tells me I cant.Something needs to end,
Whether it's the tunnel,
Or me.18/9/22
YOU ARE READING
Poems?
PoetryPoems. I wrote em. They're not good. (the newer ones are a bit better)