A feeling just below the surface.
Shown the waves churning and pulling beneath the sheet.
Boxed in - phone a friend - or hopeless.
Covered existence bleeding bleak.
The drains flow one way and all stop in the game.
Buckles and straps won't help you relax.
Nor will these dead weighted chains.
Free dive and cover your tracks.
Plucking away at this life.
Hostage blue collar or knife.
Misery loves company.
What more does it take to be free?
Aches or earthquakes.
Love letters and heartbreaks.
Prison system or desert death.
Choke on your words or when he squeezes hold your breath.
Legs may go weak.
Stumbles with your feet.
Has the hero ever been the freak?
Or does he remain among the meek?
Shirts weren't meant to hide our pride.
Skin deep doesn't show turmoils inside.
Hidden shame or living a lie.
Close the curtain framed to die.
~Introverted Sage~
©️2023I.S.
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Author:
Introverted Sage (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 11th, 2023 01:15
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: AuburnScribbler
Offline)
Comments2
Masterfully written here Introverted Sage, filled with beautiful and vicious imagery.
This when read, is eye nectar, and when read aloud, a treat for the ears.
Bravo, and I hope that all is well.
Thank you so much for your kind words!
I appreciate your comment!
Totally agree with scribbler
I honestly believe your last few writes have been on a different level
No sign of slowing down either
Superb
😊 Thank you humbly! Never in a million years did I imagine others connecting with my writing.. let alone think it was any good.
Your encouraging comments are so appreciated!
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