Lost
No. She's not fine,
She's not good, or ok, or fine.
She's terrible.
She can't stop the thoughts, she can't stop the swirling ideas.
She can't even speak.
The fear is constant,
Never-ending.
There is no escape,
So she stops,
Stops fighting, stops trying.
Stops talking and sharing, in hope that the fear will stop.
It never does.
So, no.
She's not fine.
She's lost in a pitch black cave.
She can never find her way out.
So stop asking if she's fine.
Stop asking if she's ok.
She'll always say yes.
But, she isn't fine.
She isn't ok.
This poem is about:
Me
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: