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Maybe One Day
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Personal (Melancholy) I seldom write about happiness
because it's seldom found me.
I write of melancholy things
because depression has
a grip on me.
I write of loneliness
because it's all I've ever known.
When I think about my past
and what's brought me here,
I wish I could say I like
being on my own.
But that would be a lie;
I'm not strong enough
to conquer my ghosts.
I remember the moments
that were good,
the almost lovers
and the close friends.
But I find it hard to forgive
the ones who have wronged me
and the ones I have failed.
My heart is a cage
filled with rage
hopefully I'll come of age
and write a new page.
Maybe one day.
