closings xiii

Kinsey Peterson

Deep in the darkness of my mind,

I search for light, but none I find,

Days to weeks and weeks to years,

My fears and worries become my peers.


The world may spin, but my feet are stuck,

A prisoner to this feeling, it's just my luck

My thoughts they strike with new lethality,

And I lose myself in this mentality.


Those years pass by, still I am drawn,

Drowning in my burning dawn

Into the grip of crippling doubt,

How is it this is the only route?


The chains that bind me may seem strong,

But I refuse to linger for long.

To rid the heart of fear's abyss

It’s the little things I miss.


My soul calls to the unknown,

Aching for space to call my own.

I summon the courage to take control,

To reach out and make myself whole.

  • Author: Kinsey Peterson (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 26th, 2023 11:32
  • Comment from author about the poem: I don't typically write with rhymes and it was very strange to use this type of language. However- I feel that broadening my skills is important so please leave some critique :)
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 5
  • User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.
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  • Violet bluebell( used to be yellow rose)

    Hello ) I think you have done well with the rhyming it’s a good poem which flows nicely .. tho there’s sadness in it .

    I never use rhyming much in mine either .. it’s not something I often think of trying to do

  • Neville

    I rarely write in rhyme myself .. but that doesn't mean I favour prose, in fact I admire those who can and do .. closings Xlll is a well crafted poem that reads well and sounds good in my head .. it additionally looks good on the page and flows perfectly .. all in all I would suggest you give yourself a pat on the back .. Neville

    • Kinsey Peterson

      the smile that shows up on my face whenever i see that you are commenting is my favourite part of the day

      • Neville

        how very kind, then I am indeed truly blessed .. 🌹x

      • L. B. Mek

        fantaboulous flow
        I slide from syllable to line
        like a waterfall, free
        of pebbles or jagged rock
        driven, by waves of poetic rhyme
        we must free our wings of creativity
        to reach heights we never knew
        we could dream, let alone achieve
        just a joy to watch you soar
        oh most dexterous Poet
        (I bow to your superior talent)

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