Yet my call, became a whisper,
In these atrocious times.
Whilst in jubilant motions,
The bell still chimes.
Exhausted by solemn passers,
Acknowledging my face.
In all my feeble trysome acts,
Where I try to establish my place.
Precious moments of solitude,
Ripped from my unyielding heart.
As vulgar bystanders in silence,
Urge for a ferocious start.
My feeble attempts to be perilous,
Forgotten somewhere in between.
By trying to become sagacious,
I'm still in need of someone on whom I can lean.
Anxious of what tomorrow holds,
I turn gaunt in stress.
In stead of being immaculate and colossal,
I might just have to settle for less.
YOU ARE READING
Emotional Amnesia
PoetrySometimes when I say "I'm okay", I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight and say, "I know you're not". I have felt like this many times in my life; as a kid, teenager and as an adult. I have seen many things in my life and felt even more...
