PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I sense myself in a state of unawareness. 

Memories are put away in a book

We used to stand hand in hand, nothing could break us. 

The gloomy weather is just a reminder that things will never be the same. 

My hair looks like a mess, but I don’t care. 

I look out the window as I see the driver get to my destination, moon not even out yet.

 The wind blows across my face as I make my way in. 

I see his rough shape, His eyes dead and lifeless. 

You could see everyone’s worried concerns. 

Looking out the window the sky is gloomy. 

Sleep is something everyone in the room needs.

 Paper after paper is not good news 

His illness is like a tower waiting to fall but once it falls and it hits the ground it means its over. 

Maybe once it’s over he’ll be swimming in the ocean 

But for now, he is still here, and I just look at him eat out the bowl

His illness is like fire waiting to burst out in flames, on the border between getting better or getting worse. 

We stand here looking like ants supporting one another 

I just wish him, and I were back at the park playing on the green grass.

Even though things will never be the same he will never forget his roots of who he is. 

I wish this was a dream and I could wake up and

everything will be normal, but this is not a dream this is reality and I have to face it and live through it.