Where do I start?
Where do I go?
This house just isn’t a home anymore.
Everyone has just moved on with life,
While I sit here wallowing in this pit
Of clinical depression.
Did they even notice she was gone?
If so,
Then how did they simply move on?
I’d love to hear their tips and tricks.
Maybe even read their book
“Getting Over It for Dummies”
But no one cares about little old me,
Just digging my hole.
They sit there with ladders and ropes,
But they build a swing while I’m dying alone in my self-made suffering.
No one thinks to get me out.
I miss the night and the day,
At lunchtime when I forget to eat
Or at nighttime when I forget to sleep.
One thing I remember as I fall
Is that it’s a world of laughter after all.
So I remember to smile as I descend.
And smile as my friends and family
Who had all but forgotten me shove me off a cliff.
And while I fall
I hear them call;
“It’s a world of slaughter after all.”
186 Words
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Late Night Poems
PoesíaPoetry for the broken souls. Enjoy a private glimpse into my mind which is not given even to those closest to me. I hope you can find a friend in the words on your screen. I don't have an upload schedule; it may be a long time between uploads. I'm...
