Home

SerenWise

I'm listening to the silence,

Hand pressed up against the glass

Of my contained box,

While my soul struggles on

Through the lashing rain,

Feet sliding and slipping,

Through trails of pain.

Fingernails raking on my skin,

Leaving rivulets of red

Streaking dirty blood,

I'm trying - please believe me,

There's nothing more to give.

I only wish for respite 

From this storm,

Open arms of belonging,

To find a heart a home,

Unearthing someplace warm.

  • Author: SerenWise (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 15th, 2019 15:36
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 16
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments3

  • Nicholas Browning

    Amen to that my friend.

  • ztaysimple

    Nice! Keep sharing

  • sylviasearcher

    A painful piece. That hope for respite is a familiar feeling. I hope writing it out gave you if but a moment of peace and warmth.

    Your words are home 🌈



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.