The Leak In My Roof
A crappy house and a hopeful woman
As it rains, there are drops
Pouring from my roof
Droplets of rain go bloop
Each one taps the buckets
And splashes on my skin
I canโt help but wonder
The ceasing of this moment
Where I can say this is the end
The disappointment on my face
Screams an expression of disgrace
Sometimes this place looks like a waste
Squirrels and bats wander the attic like itโs their cave
And pieces of the house break apart each day
My sighs plead to just be okay
But the feeling of being such seems astray
Drip, drip, drop
The sounds of a poorly built house
Everything is caving in
But still, I am content
If I lost hope, Iโd lose my strength within
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from ๐๐ถ๐พ๐๐ฝ๐ถ ๐ฒ. and writers in Poets and other communities.
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe itโs better to go through life a little buzzedโฆ this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and Iโm going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (โthisโ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.