The fire cracked as I knelt by it, feeding the flames with my breath.
So, I told the man to my left:
You look like death.
He spoke of his woes and my curiosity sparked,
Yet he hid his secret away in the dark.
You're sensual, beautiful, he flirted with me,
But he didn't realize I see what I see.
He fought his inner demons on the side,
And posed as a happy man even if
It meant he could die. I told him then,
Oh tormented man,
Try, try, be brave if you can.
A pain shared is proof of how you fare, and in this world there are not many who
Care.
I whispered to him, coaxing his lost voice,
Then finally, when he had no choice,
He stared into the fire and told me of death,
Of drunken nights, of visiting the grave,
Of broken promises and of face saved.
Oh father oh father have I let you down? He cried;
What can I do to turn this around?
I comforted him and then told him this:
Your father's death isn't your fault, but if you bottle it up, yours is.
YOU ARE READING
Optimistic Pessimism
PoesieA compilation of poetry I've written in order to express myself. They are all very short, only about 100 words each, so please give reading a few a try! :) I also have a book! Link: http://w.tt/21toVyh (It's on my bio! And it's called "Scrape") Al...
