Every morning I open my eyes,
but I don’t move, I don’t rise.
The light comes in, the world begins,
but something heavy pulls me in.
I try to speak, I try to stand,
but nothing listens, nothing understands.
I am good, they always say,
but good feels lost in every day.
Why am I good if I can’t be strong?
If I feel like I don’t belong?
I smile, I laugh, I play the part,
but sadness builds inside my heart.
Every night I stare at the ceiling,
numb and tired, killing feeling.
I want to scream, I want to shout,
but silence wraps itself around.
I cannot do, I cannot be,
what everyone expects from me.
Why I am good, I wish I knew,
when I can’t move, can’t follow through.
Every morning, every night,
I disappear without a fight.
About the Creator
Leesh lala
A mind full of dreams, a heart wired for wonder. I craft stories, chase beauty in chaos, and leave sparks of meaning behind. Built to rise, made to inspire.
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Violence Begets
"Any last words, cowboy?" "None you'd understand, sodbuster." "Funny. That's Marshall Sodbuster to you. But I meant some last nugget that would help us in the adjudication of the myriad offenses counted against you and your gang. I wasn't asking for penitence."
By Adam Diehl5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
amazing. really great!
Inspirational poem and well written.
I understand these feelings all too well. Thank you for sharing this beautiful writing
excellent writting