The silence calls to me:
"Come hither, little one."
The darkness pleads with me:
"Never leave my side."
The anger shouts at me:
"You will never be free!"
The sorrow weeps for me:
"Run, child, run."
All of the voices continue,
yet, not a single peep from me.
How can it be?
I am the only one not fighting.
On my knees, I whisper:
"Someone, help me, please."
A/N I just thought it would be good to make sure you know that I'm not crazy depressed or something. Sure I have bad moments but I'm working on a book where the main character is struggling and I'm testing out some poetry I might put in the book.
Thank you to all of you who have asked how I am. I appreciate it, but I really am fine. And if you ever need to talk, I'm here. Love you all.
