Have you felt grief ?
Have you felt its feathers,
Caressing your ribs ?
Grief is like a winding staircase,
It goes on and on.
And when you look down,
You're too high,
And you're afraid of the fall.
Grief is like an unopened music box.
The key is too rusted,
And the tune is all off,
You shouldn't have opened it,
But you did,
And now, you can't make it stop.
The voices in your head,
Keep screaming on and on.
Grief is like an ocean.
It washes over you,
Leaving you wet and terrified,
Yet wanting more.
Grief is an addiction,
Living inside your bones.
It's the monster living under your bed,
The one that you've somehow befriended.
Grief is knowing how to fight,
How to keep going on.
Grief is a burden.
You learn to bear it.
Grief is just life,
You learn to live with it
YOU ARE READING
Way Ward
PoetryLife is a jumbled mess. And from within this mess, I'm gifting you "your" stories, along with the stories of some other lost souls. Way Ward - A way to find your lost self.
