I'm not going to make it there in time.
No matter how fast I move,
I know I won't make it.
You're too far.
Way ahead.
I'm no where near.
Light years.
How can I explain this?
I thought that I could keep up.
"The Tortoise and the Hare."
But you were lightening.
Too fast,
Like you'd disappear.
I thought I could meet you in time.
But you had ran past the finish line,
And I just so happened to lag behind.
You were gone,
Dust everywhere the crowd had disappeared.
I thought that I could make it.
Oh well.
Isolation and despair.
YOU ARE READING
She.
PoetryPoetry, scenes and short stories written from the fingertips of a girl who doesn't know her own heart. She's filled each corner with love and light that she thought was pure just to watch it rot off and fill like a gaping dark hole. But these heartb...
