Dear Morning,

Dear Morning, Its rough hand brought my day to night,I surrendered to it but tried to fight,For it was late and it was right,That it was time to say goodnight,Forever a good night whatever is,Forges memories me a livid kid,And now me as a thin old man,For all my life i hid and ran,It didnt matter where i went,It followed me and was content,It chased me and poison without a hint,Leaving me with bruise and bloody dent,Now touching me I try to scream,But pain inside takes over me,For now I wish 'tis be a dream,But in a casket dead is me. Now i am alone,To recede in my sins,Quarreling with myself,Nights I cry out for help,For they mumble to me,When i try to be asleep,A sleep is my torture,Morning please release me. Yours,Deceased

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741