Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2015
All I do in life is long for something that can't be fulfilled. There is no answer to the questions; no filling the void. The girl I miss would be of no comfort if she were in my arms tonight. I would just be uncertain about something to do with her, wondering if I'm really happy with her; and the truth is I wouldn't be. When is it going to be my time? It's coming one day anyway, and I see no difference whether it comes today or in 40 years. I will not be fulfilled or happy in this life. That is a plain fact. Music, drugs, self-reflection, friendship, family, work, relationships - all these things leave me wanting more, needing more. God is no longer something I can believe in. I desire more regardless of what activity I'm engaged in. Connection is fleeting, never truly attainable. When is my time? I'm as ready as I'll ever be. When is my time?
Some Person
Written by
Some Person  Midwest
(Midwest)   
336
   Kate Irons
Please log in to view and add comments on poems