PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Upon a sigh,
she again rises
to sameness

while words uttered
spew from silent aches-

'Its grown so tiresome,
so tedious,
so very damn prosaic.'

-As she once again,
sets out upon a day,
already spent,
in its first few moments
of its awakening.

Resigned and relinquishing
she moves,
slow-paced.

For what's the hurry
in rushing the pain?

It'll still be there-
lurking in her shadows,
omni-present
and demanding
of her will.

Her lackadaisical mood,
in not the product
of a weakness,

but that of a strength,
she requires, to endure.

Nor 'tis it the effect
of this long-suffering state.

But more
the apparant result,

of her disillusionment.