Poems?...

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Title: Held on

“Hold on!” They say replacing sympathy with pity.

So I hold on.

And hold.

And wait.

And wait.

Keep holding.

I’ve been holding.

I’ve been waiting.

I’m bored.

I’m fucking bored.

I’m tired of “holding on”

“Holding on” has now become less of inspiration and more of a wall.

A wall that people put up so they don’t have to help.

I’ve held on. 

I’ve waited.

I waited for someone to get me a ladder so I may climb down from this branch.

But ... they never came.

So I climbed up. 

And up. 

And up. 

I gazed upon the forest I was left at.

No city for miles.

I gazed upon the reality.

A poor reality that the words “Hold on” may cause so much more harm.

They lead a blind man into a darkness with false sense of hope.

Hope that things will fix themselves.

As I jumped from the trees, I hit the ground; though not stumbling.

I was strong enough to keep myself up, maybe not strong enough to run.   

But walking is okay with me.

I’ve held on.

I’ve held on.