TW: No warnings in these verses, yet shadows softly tread, Topics of weight and depth, where lightheartedness has fled.
(Within these verses, a tale of sorrow unfurls, Where the radiance of youth dims, crushed by the world's swirls. Old light now dimmed, dreams shattered in despair, As expectations weigh heavy, crushing hope with care.)
Once, they hailed me as the golden child,
A beacon bright, pure potential's essence.
But now, I'm lost in shadows wild,
A forgotten figure, in life's cruel presence.
I gave my all, my heart, my soul,
Each breath a silent plea for grace.
Yet every step, a gaping hole,
Each triumph, fleeting, leaves no trace.
Eyes that once gleamed with pride,
Now glaze over with silent grief.
In their gaze, dreams have died,
As I flounder in disbelief.
Every effort, a fragile shard,
Breaking under the weight of doubt.
Each mistake, a battle scarred,
In this endless, hopeless bout.
A math book lies untouched, ignored,
While I pen these sorrowed lines.
Procrastination, my faithful ward,
Guarding a mind where despair entwines.
Gifted they called me, in days of yore,
A prodigy, with a future bright.
Now, I am a shadow, nothing more,
A poet drowning in endless night.
The weight of expectations crushed,
The echoes of past glories fade.
In this silence, I am hushed,
A weary soul, in darkness swayed.
No longer the pride, no longer the hope,
Just a sad soul, with a pen's embrace.
Writing of dreams, beyond my scope,
In a world where I've lost my place.
Never enough, a whisper, a scream,
A truth that gnaws, a silent bluff.
In this harsh light, I lose my dream,
Forever chasing the ghost of enough.
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...
