PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The wind doesn't tear at me

My family doesn't either

God isn't looking down

Isn't prodding me with his fingertips

The future has no part in this game

The past cannot touch me

The present flows through

With just a small wave

And a little bow before

Excusing itself out the door

Marked with large red letters

No animals reach for my heart

Even those adorable baby elephants

I am standing up on this hill

With the blue sky standing just above

Silently

And the stars that are still shining

Hidden in the mess of day

I have my eyes closed

And nothing in this world can touch me

At the end of one's life

It has only ever been one's self

Tugging and pulling 

Tearing and swearing

Fighting and stabbing

Trying to reach a hand into one's chest

Just to see what's really going on

Inside