Seagulls,
Innocent, naive birds,
Soared above chaotic
Derailing of steel bars sinking
Into polluted depths of oily
Waters, scattered decorations, cheap and
Luxurious, blended
Into a soup named
The sea.
I fly away from
Sinking ships as this,
Not giving time to
Mourn over feelings lost
In the salty broth that
Only engulfs and
Never gives back.
Just as the seagulls,
I do not look back, and yet
I see.
I see words try to
Intertwine between
Their frail, limping selves,
Grasp at commas and
'And's, yet only finding
Periods and
Bubbles that seem to
Leave them
Drowning.
I see hands try to
Grasp each other, steel
Fingers in solid grip, yet
We knew.
The future foretold simply
Rust and
Curses and
"Don't let go"s except
You did.
I see complaints,
Headlines underlining
Mistakes of things that
Are meant to rest in peace
Atop the ocean floor, yet
How are they meant to
When all people do
Is scream their names in
Anguish?
Let dead men go.
And how am I meant to forgive when
You never repent, when
You live your days flying past
Things that begin with 'D's and end in 'Y's.
We were proud of her:
Our ship we
Polished and scrubbed on
A daily basis with
Jokes too old and too
Cheesy and
Conversations too
Plenty.
And yet, when something as
Simple as a stray word
Toppled from the
Heavens, we simply
Let go.
No.
You let go.
What are we then but simply fools?
May our friendship rest in peace.
YOU ARE READING
It (#Wattys2016)
Poetry| 1st Place for Summer Sun Awards (Beginner's Firsts) | | 2nd Place for the Pinpoint Awards | | Finalist for the 2016 Awards | It matters not what people think regarding things you believe strongly in. Perhaps, it may even help to even spread...
