I wake each day, but nothing moves; my dreams are stuck in place.
My hands reach out to touch the world, yet everything feels blank.
The straitjacket feeling never dies, I sit still as if it were time,
While hours pass like faceless ghosts, and freedom feels a crime.
Forever I sit, forever I wander-will this be my life?
A stagnant sea of endless grey where hope seems out of sight.
"Ask for help," they say often, but why when there's nothing there?
In a void of silent echoes, I scream but find no one to care.
My chest tightens at this realization, forever alone this burden I bear,
Lost in the shadow of my own making, with emptiness laid bare.
The map is empty, the map to nowhere, a journey with no end,
No coordinates to guide me, for me to know the beginning from the end.
Stuck in a labyrinth of my own despair, with no light to transcend,
I wander through this endless dark, where shadows seem to blend.
So this is my thought on being lost: never let it take control.
Hold your head up, push your chest out; you've got more room to grow.
-Chanté Buchanan
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My Songs of Poetry
PoetryThis poetry book is a heartfelt exploration of the human experience, delving into themes of love, loss, resilience, and self-discovery. Through evocative imagery and poignant language, the poems capture the complexities of emotions, inviting readers...
