The pop of a fresh handle, like hands placed on a rusted but polished railing
Overlooking a foreign harbor, I wish it would rain
But all it ever does is hail, like the echoing “knock” of a nail being hammered in
A subtle reminder, resembling their howls
I wish the silver I wore at my neck tired their mouths, those critics that read my life’s work
But “Never Write!”
Familiar taunts, I watch as they stare into mirrors with grins
Ignoring our pleas? Abuse is nothing new to the youth
Old scars wrapped in bitter bandages weigh in on my head’s case, I see tilted
But as long as I can get to the pier, I “shouldn’t” worry
Regardless, rain or shine, it gets exhausting having to check
Regularly, and often I ask if it is worth it, especially when it is
Hello, this is my first poem on this site. It is an old original by me, but the formatting is not agreeing with this template size. I'll write poems that fit well with the format in the future, but for now please accept some lines pouring over. Thank you!