My life was lost under a shroud of tears, a dismal cover woven through the years,
Growing more impassable with every thread, crushing all purpose with the weight of lead,
With every stitch, another blow, a consistent dampening of a brilliant glow,
Yet all this now seems in the past, with decades of pain changing ever so fast,
With scissors of hope cutting sharply at the cover, with a simple day passing on to another,
Tomorrow this sombre shroud will tear, and I'm jumping right through on a wing and a prayer.
Whether heaven or hell awaits me on the other side, at least at the end I can say that I tried.
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Author:
J.G (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 30th, 2017 22:10
- Comment from author about the poem: Tomorrow is a big day for me, the true start of my life. As I lay here unable to sleep, it seemed appropriate to whip up a quick poem! Nothing special but I enjoy writing them and this covers how I feel, perhaps you can relate to it!
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 31
Offline)
Comments1
Great poem. At the end, that's all you can do. Even when nothing matters, the fact that you tried does. Again, great poem.
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