February 20, 12:41 A.M
late, and the words are clumsy now
falling all over each other like soldiers cut down
in battle
their weapons useless against the plague that chases them
they try but there is nowhere
to go.
falling all over each other like soldiers cut down
in battle
their weapons useless against the plague that chases them
they try but there is nowhere
to go.
they are scattered, some dead, some barely hanging on
some swearing they still have something to say
right before their breath slips away.
i am tired of always taking
and finding nothing there.
i am not who i wanted to be-
yet.
when i wake up tomorrow, i will be.
Published by April Fox
When she isn't writing for sites like livestrong and typef, April can usually be found with her head in a book, lying in the sun blowing bubbles, or perched near the stage listening to music and trying to av... View profile
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2 Comments
Post a CommentNot who I wanted to be -- yet. But that morning hope! Beautiful.
I very much appreciated your poignancy, sometimes insomnia can be a gift =-)