Poetry: ‘End Of My Rope’ | Fringe Arts – The Link

Poetry: ‘End Of My Rope’

Graphic Eva Wilson

    Sometimes it can be hard

    To see the light

    To smell the flowers

    To listen to the bard

     

    Wallowing in that chasm

    The explosion of silence

    When it's louder in my head than outside

    Not something I was able to fathom

     

    Until it has made its great return

    That familiar embrace

    A cold blanket with rough feel

    And doubt so strong you burn

     

    When the skull becomes a void

    A limitless gap

    The horizon hidden in shroud

    Perspective destroyed

     

    Is this all it is

    Brief ecstasy

    With an inevitable comedown

    All of it going to piss

     

    Each day to rise and shine

    Following the script layed out

    A series of chores

    I’m in the rat race acting like it's fine

     

    The counters are expected

    Everyone feels like that sometimes

    It's just part of growing up

    But alas I'm still affected

     

    I get up and try not to forget to hope

    Knowing the lows allows for the highs

    Remembering that I'll miss it when I'm gone

    ‘Cause I'm not yet at the end of my rope


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