I'm great, fine, spectacular. In a way
I relish every night, and I live every day.
I live, I laugh, I write, I sing.
I wonder what the new days will bring.
Then I get home, and I take off the mask.
The day, and almost impossible task,
is finally over, so I lie down
and wait patiently for the day that I die.
I cry, I scream, I bawl, and sleep,
even though I have promises to keep.
I wait, and wonder, and cry some more,
and I ache and burn from my very core.
Then I'm not alone, and the mask reappears:
out goes the grief, pain, and all of the tears,
as I am a happy person, cheerful all the day.
A world full of rainbow, not one shade of grey.
Of course I'm not okay, I'm not fine,
no matter how much I seem to shine.
I don't even know why I feel this...
why my existence is one long, endless abyss.
But it is and will be, so I cling to life,
as one day I might slip and end it with a knife.
But I'm still here, no matter what my dreams might say,
and I hope that one day I will actually be okay.
Source: mishaella
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The remains of yesterday
PoetryThe remains of yesterday is a short mini series cloaked dreams, these poems are both relatable as they are sad and the main aim is to show people they arent alone in there fight.and help them achieve redemption but in order to do this we have to go...
