Sunken eyes in a shallow face
Empty lungs and a heart just out of place Meaningless smile without any teeth
So not to show the fangs beneath.
The people about don't say a word
And all helpless cries go unheard
As the creature struggles on and through
Pain and loss, a fatal brew.
A thunderhead, dangerous and menacing
Hovers only over where the creature is standing
As the rain no one else feels keeps falling down
The creature slowly begins to drown.
It works to stand straight, to nod at the others
Every one a sister or brother
Not by blood, but by the creature's blind love
Which brings only thunder down from up above.
It's pouring indoors and outdoors and all in between
As the creature smiles at all it's seen
But keep those lips closed, don't scare them away
The creature is fighting through every day.
Silent unless spoken to
As the creature hurts in, out, and through
The creature's heart grows still in its chest
It goes into autopilot, mixed in with the rest.
Is there a point? The dull creature wondered,
As its feelings were hurt and its memories plundered
Is there a point to all of this mess?
I haven't yet seen it, the creature confessed.
The creature watched as the other humans danced
Friends and family, jobs, art, romance
The creature wondered what it could be
But, of course, I'm only me.
YOU ARE READING
Misty (a collection of my poetry) {{COMPLETE}}
PoetryA road trip of poetry, I guess. Care to come along? Highest rank: 267 in poetry Read my third poetry book, "hush." I have high hopes for it. Read my first poetry book, "where the bluebirds aren't." (Or don't, it's old and rather embarrassing). ⚠️...
