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 |  My blog. Sometimes abstruse musings and rants! |
MAY 16 ENTRY: Thunderstorms Hey y'all. This is a poem I actually wrote during a thunderstorm  . Read on....Grey, dark, clouded, The rain pelted down, As I sat by the window, slipping deeper into the chasm Of uncertainty, doubt, misery. I remember the last time I swore I’d never come back here again, And yet, here I was again… What do you do if you keep falling? What do you do if doesn’t make sense anymore? What do you do if you just can’t? Do you keep hitting your head against the impenetrable wall? Until you bleed to death? They tell you to keep trying, Empty words, banal. And what do they do when you fail? Laugh. You’ve fallen for their oldest trick, They show you an opening And then shut the door in your face. It is still raining, probably harder, The sky is as bleak as it was earlier, But does it matter? Does anything matter? I had tried to rise above this, To follow the light, however faint. But I was back to square one, wasn’t I? Crashed and burned, Worn out, My belief punctured by the thorns, I wonder if I’ll find the rose one day, I wonder if it even exists… ________________________________________________________________________________________ I read as much poetry as time allows and circumstance dictates: No heartache can pass without a little Dorothy Parker, no thunderstorm without W. H. Auden, no sleepless night without W. B. Yeats. -J. Courtney Sullivan |
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