Cloud Room
Some days the light
waits outside my door
like it forgot my name.
The clock keeps moving,
but inside me
everything walks slowly.
I carry invisible rain
in my chest,
and even laughter
feels heavy to hold.
Still—
somewhere beneath the clouds,
a small stubborn spark
keeps breathing.
Not loud.
Not bright.
But enough
to whisper:
stay.
-
Author:
Rodah M (
Offline) - Published: May 18th, 2026 12:58
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
Offline)
Comments2
Oh do I ever know that feeling. Existing, but only hypothetically. I don't know if you're into metal or not, but there is a song called "The Distant Dream of Life" by Shape of despair. It really resonated with me, maybe it could do the same for you.
This poem sounds so soft and tender even timid. It speaks gently. Very nice
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.