Another ring on a trembling hand,
Another teary smile,
A life to live with dreams so grand,
I'll be in bed awhile.
Faking my joy to match their own,
There's only so long I can last,
Forcing myself not to cry,
yet feeling my chance has passed.
Is it experience or discontent,
To think them all too young?
I'm trying so hard to not resent
Their giddy love so newly sprung.
Can I learn to sleep my grief away?
I want to disappear,
To never return to the light of day,
To never hold empty, loveless air.
I'm so tired of silence,
But it's the only thing that welcomes me.
My only companion my own beating heart,
And I guess that's as content as I ever can be.
About the Creator
M. A. Mehan
"It simply isn't an adventure worth telling if there aren't any dragons." ~ J. R. R. Tolkien
storyteller // vampire // drink goblin // arizona desert rat
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from M. A. Mehan and writers in Poets and other communities.
About Writing
Most people talk about things that bother them as a way to vent their emotions, another way is through writing. As I sit writing in my car, I ponder how much writing, in itself, has helped me become the person I am today. I have endless amounts of pages filled with poems, stories, and sometimes random blurbs. Writing is a window into your soul. The simple action of writing has benefited me; by helping me to achieve a better memory, helping me to learn and grow intellectually, and helping me to communicate my emotions.
By Sarah Wilcox7 days ago in Journal
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.