The Same

I was left all on my own

Darkness collapsing from above

My way seemed impossible

Now it only seemed too short

Made me wondering


If anything changed at all


Who truly made my choices?

Me or the voices in my head?

Truly me or a destined fate?


It all feels so unreal

And too sharp to touch


Days kept falling away

Dates lost their meanings long ago


If I cut all ties

Is it truly me in the end?

Or just a figure I imagined

By trying to accept my scars?


I wonder what´s to come

A storm or just a breeze indeed


I am not afraid

Of the eyes staring

At me from my walls


I climbed the mountain

And now stand proudly on the top

With the wind roaring

Pushing me over the edge again


Have I just gone cold?

Or did I truly managed to survive the storm?

Which kept me, prisoner, for years?


Creativity comes and go

I could never hold onto it too tight

Without cutting myself to the bone


Maybe I just need to let go

Screaming against the storm

Letting the flames devour me alive


Just to understand one thing

I am not the child to pity and ignore anymore

I´ve grown to be so much more



  • FredPeyer

    Aloha Amy,
    another great poem. Who really makes our choices? Does it come from outside or within? And what direction, what path, will these choices point us?
    So viele Fragen! Und wer hat die Antwort?

  • Goldfinch60

    Very good words Amy, you have reached up and found yourself so your future will now be full of joy.


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