If it hurts.
It hurts.
When it rains it can pour.
When the warm light of the sun holds, it cradles.
Pain; a simple concept.
But has the true depth of the seas.
Its dark and muddled.
It can take the good with the bad.
And the bad with the good.
Your soul can ache for many moons after the wound as been dealt.
I used to find ideal skies above the gloom and murk ideal.
Always a place I wanted to be.
They looked like home.
But now that I've bloomed I find them stifling.
A false promise of a toxic positive.
I'm indeed jaded.
I'm tired and angry.
Someone should be.
Wondering if this is as good as it gets.
But this gloom and murk.
Helped me learn to take it home.
Light in these shadows.
Shadows in this light.
To death.
From death.
And back to life.
YOU ARE READING
Sunrise or Sunset; The Garden of Hugs
PoetryHey all! This is just a collection of primarily free-verse poems I've created. Every poem is a different flower with a theme. To give the feeling of warmth and healing. With a sprinkling of finding resilience from within. That is the overall goal. E...
