A poem about how it feels when I'm left to fend for myself.

Everytime you give in

Is a moment I can't win

Throw in the towel; life

My day's under the knife

A place I can't restore

Behaviors I can't ignore 

 

Movement on effect

Wondering what's next

Count it as a skip day

You'll argue anyways 

Transparent; hidden

Where do I begin?

 

These subjects tired

As my body; wired

To expect the least

For all eyes to feast

What good can it be

Focus on the negativity

 

Before I lay down

My chiseled crown

Erodes and reshapes 

When I was left alone

Your whimpers hone

My deafened ear 

As you're not here

 

Say what you will

Leave me to hell

Figuring the error

As the soul wears

To forgotten time 

Within tries; rewind

 

When will I see you?

To the one that is true

An excuse for it all

Yet you take the fall

Not knowing the truth

What you continue to do

Effects me, too; anew

 

 


Submitted: September 25, 2024

© Copyright 2025 Bryan Smithson. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments

Other Content by Bryan Smithson

Book / Religion and Spirituality

Book / Religion and Spirituality