Print

Hope Against Hope!

A look at what sensitivity can do to child-like innocence that's open to good, but unable to distinguish between good and bad.
I used to cry,
As long as I can remember.
I can still hear me crying.
I didn't want anyone to know.

The smile always did,
And still does mask my face.
But now it's tainted,
With apprehension and an unknown fear.

My soul keeps crying,
Even after I am asleep,
When my mind is not awake,
When people around me aren't awake,
No one can see me crying,
Not even me!

The sopor that's not so deep,
That shows me the shades,
I can't see during the day.
The colors painted around me,
With hues of crimson and red.

The daylight unfolds a picture,
That's not real, that's just an illusion.
The world that enjoys being fake,
Fake smiles and fake expectations.

All day long I wait
To get into this slumber,
Which lets me cave in
Into the illuminated darkness.

Where I don't feel the turmoil,
Where there are no flutters,
No delusions, no hurt,
Just me and my agitated soul.

For now I can just see,
My footsteps going in.
Will I be able to see the light again,
The bright sun glinting on the horizon.

There ought to be a God,
Who will give me the strength.
To pave a path that goes out,
Into the wilderness of chaos.
Where there's no order,
Where chaos is the order of the day.

And I am one amongst them all.
Adding to it,
Seeing only what I should
The brighter sides of everything
Burying deep... the darker secrets!
By Dr. Maisie M
Published: 9/11/2010
Bouquets and Brickbats | What Others Said