TW: mentions of daddy issues, mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions of hurtful words
(Dear reader, who delves into these sorrow-laden lines, May solace greet you, if in these rhymes your heart aligns. If your spirit mirrors this tale of aching cries, I hope within these verses, comfort softly lies.)
In the quiet shadows of his room, he lies,
A boy, with tangled thoughts and tear-streaked eyes.
His mind a mess, a storm that never stills,
Haunted by a father's words, the ache that kills.
Once, his father's love was warm and kind,
A beacon of strength, a shelter for his mind.
He recalls the days of laughter, strong embrace,
But now sees only anger in his father's face.
"You're worthless," echoes harshly in his ears,
Each insult cutting deep, igniting fears.
The boy clings to memories, fragile and thin,
Of a time when his father's love dwelled within.
He thinks of ending pain, a release, a fall,
Yet something whispers, holds him, through it all.
A flicker of hope, a dream not yet unfurled,
A silent plea to the unforgiving world.
His heart is heavy, burdened with despair,
The weight of words too cruel for him to bear.
But in the midst of darkness, a tiny light,
A memory of a father who once made things right.
He can't hate him, though the wounds run deep,
For in his heart, those cherished moments sleep.
A hug, a laugh, a father's guiding hand,
Lost now, like footprints in the shifting sand.
He's trapped in this turmoil, can't break free,
Held by the ghost of what used to be.
He longs for freedom, an end to the strife,
But something, someone, keeps him tied to life.
Perhaps it's hope, or love's lingering trace,
Or the faint memory of his father's face.
He stays, he fights, in silence he endures,
Hoping one day, his father's love reoccurs.
In the quiet shadows, he still lies,
A boy with tangled thoughts, tear-streaked eyes.
But within his heart, a spark remains aglow,
Of a father's love, from long ago
YOU ARE READING
Echoes of the Unspoken
PoetryHere lies a collection of poems, scattered like leaves, shared in the hope that someone might find solace and know they are not alone in their turmoil. Beware, for these poems are not for the faint of heart; they arise from the darkest recesses of m...
