I am the silence to those
That don't understand my
Words,
For I am
Far more complicated
Than my words
Alone.
I am the grey
To an Oregon sky --
Unending and
Left without hope
Of a light.
Yes, The grey.
It has a fascinating
Ring to it
When thinking
Of the bitter
Weeping of the
Firmament.
I long to love
Those I could not
Love enough;
I long to
Extinguish the fears
That I am destined
To be unlovable.
In a memory
I am strong enough
For others to depend on--
In a dream
I am more than
A vacant husk.
I wonder if there
Will be a day
My uselessness
Could define me
No longer --
A day where
The grey wasn't
Stitched into my
Very soul.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Short Stories and Poems
Historia CortaThe title basically says it all. This will be a collection of really short stories and poems I have made recently in a creative writing class as warm-ups, so just sit back and enjoy a few chapters of random things based off of random prompts. This...
