Why can I spot a sea of stars
if she can't see just one?
Why is her life a catch of misery
if mine is full of fun?
-
Why is her every breath labored
if mine are clear and light?
Why is running my pleasure
if walking is for her a fight?
-
Why is love mine, so plentiful
if she's shrouded in broken hate
Why do I smile and laugh and live
if she's doomed to such a fate?
-
Why is it fair if I can live
when she's witnessed death and scars?
She's groping in the darkness; how still
do I spot a sea of stars?
About the Creator
Rachel Steinmetz
Written expression is emotion at its peak; delve into it.
Keep reading
More stories from Rachel Steinmetz and writers in Poets and other communities.
New Normal
There is always a moment — small, quiet, almost forgettable — when the spark stops being a warning and becomes a state. It never looks like a turning point from the outside. It’s not a dramatic shift. It’s not a cinematic beat. It’s a subtle internal click, a recalibration so slight that only someone who has lived this cycle as many times as I have would recognize it.
By Elisa Wontorcik5 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Why is running my pleasure if walking is for her a fight?- what a question... love that line... just curious who the 'her' is in this poem.... 😉 lol you dn't have to tell me.