Untitled Poetry

In fields of daisies and daffodils,
we are nothing more than weeds.
In summer's grace, we are the rainy days.
Our very existence is against the grain.

We ponder at the skies,
wondering what they have destined for us,
praying it's something greater,
a meaning that transcends our pain. 

We sit by ourselves, isolated,
watching time wind by in the blink of an eye,
attempting to hold on to the twists and turns,
the unforgiving and the unrelenting. 

We keep things hidden within ourselves,
terrified by our lack of vulnerability.
A shadow shell buried in reflections.
Gasping for connection,
reaching for affection.  

We are nothing more than boats wading in the current.
Waiting for the storm to pass.
And all we hope for is better weather.
Someday. 

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.