Author: OneLastEndeavor PM
A weird poem I wrote about hating your life and brooding over it. Real depressing stuff. RR!Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Tragedy/Angst - Words: 164 - Reviews: 4 - Published: 07-01-05 - id: 1953005
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The wind howls outside
Rain patters softly on the window
As I sit here and try to comprehend
What life has become in just five days
A gaping hole, moving without mercy
Cruelly throwing out words of misery
And still I sit, watching the rain
As all things good flee.
Mother! Is this true?!
Am I really destined for this anguish?!
Please come and wrap me
In your warm blanket of content.
So many things—oh, so many things wrong
But I still sit, numb in my chair, my eyes clouded
My mind wandering to rising green meadows
And blooming flowers of resurrection
Of angels lingering among the mist
Spreading golden wealth and happiness
As nectar falls from a single sieve
Are you listening, girl?!
Do you understand?!
Without pity, I am snapped out of my fantasy
That once was a sanctuary in the cold
But now, there is no escape from the truth:
There are just too many things wrong.