Without My Umbrella
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The sky is filled with grudges.
I'm alone in the middle.
No friends, no judges.
My life is merely a riddle.
How can I survive?
If this is so cruel?
Happiness can't revive.
I'm not your jewel.
My blue umbrella is not enough—
To cover all the pain and tears.
Ocean eyes seem tough.
Rain that stayed for years.
Physical death is inevitable,
But emotionally, I'm already dead.
The storm inside of me is irrevocable.
My soul, better cause, has bled.
How can I survive?
If this is not who I am?
A world without my jive—
What a lovely scam?
YOU ARE READING
Cornelia Street (Republished)
PoetryThrough sonnets inspired by Shakespeare, I reveal intimate secrets I've longed to express, despite fearing they'd go unheeded. They capture the anguish of unspoken emotions, yearning for acknowledgment, only to face silence. First Published: May 5...
