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.