A simple storm isn't even the right comparison
For this torturous game I play
It's more of a hurricane being spun
A category five exciting a dreary day
Without the storm the skies are only drenched in gray
Colorless and hopeless with the stench of despair
A light drizzle from the sky produces a vacant stare
At least with hurricanes there are windows in the eyes
It's blue it's vibrant no rain falls with silent sighs
In the eye I'm safe the windy walls a fortress
But safety is merely an illusion and I know I am foolish
For every storm passes and the walls chew me up and spit me out
I'm really no worse than before
of this I have no doubt
As I sit on the edge of shore
I turn and look around
The hurricane as passed
I watch as it vacates my vibrancy and window of safety
Somehow I already forget the walls that shredded and betrayed me
Darkness falls the skies return gray
I turn back toward the bay
My eyes glaze as I stare back out to sea

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem