The predicament, a light that could not shine its brightest.
I found one, the relatable kind.
Knowing of its fault, she brought out a test,
That triggered its maximum, to brighten my room.
Above its craze, the room could move,
Revealing how I'd felt, it roamed its fastest.
We played with what she fixed, as it spun on its pace.
Yelling for me to act, she made it her own race.
Succeeding by its end, she'd taken it away,
The room's brightness, the one she installed,
The light dull again, again it is dim.
She made it her prize, she's showing it to me.
Disapproving of its state, she shows it more.
Demanding a chase, insisting on a follow.
I run to her then, while she creates another game;
At the end of the road, she's promising, the room shall never be dimmed again.
YOU ARE READING
Dimmed
PoetryBroken by life's struggles, by love, but yearn to have it back? Blaze through the likely feeling of your emotions with these pieces which tell stories; The kind to make you feel like the spark you had around your dreams or ex-lover exists, but as fa...
