Sun of Sorts


I look up,
But I'm blinded.
Not by the sun,
But by a sun of sorts.
Its rays are glaring at me:
"Failure, disaster, burden;"
I can't see past the menacing beams.
So most days I look down,
Away from the brightness,
Avoid the strain,
Caused by this sun of sorts.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem