Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

The Hedgehog In The Fog

Ripples running away from me

disturbing the cool water around.

My splash is heard by the trees and the birds

But by none who can offer help.

At first I panic, thrash madly,

as a thrush flutters on the breeze.

More waves are caused by the actions

But still I flap and scream.

 

Not a soul can hear me;

the woods are a wilderness, deserted.

Everything hidden by the low dense cloud,

It stops my sight short and muffles my voice.

So I wait drifting with the current

no longer reaching for a hold,

Confident I’ll be found and saved

Dried out and sent home happy.

 

The minutes soon become hours though

and still there is no help.

I give up counting depressing time.

I don’t want to know how long.

My skin starts to wrinkle with wetness

like a dried fruit in a plastic bag;

My nails soften in the water

But still trap **** and other life.

 

My faith in human nature

starts to fade and recede.

I try calling out once more

A strange fear forcing the action

I now grab, frantic, at anything in reach

Losing what little strength's left

And the weight of the water in my clothes

And body is dragging me down.

 

Finally I realise what’s happening to me

is I am sinking, drowning - and fast.

I am dying and there is nothing

I can do myself to stop it.

Inevitable, unpreventable death that I

now accept as being my destiny,

I close my eyes and try to help

By thinking heavy thoughts.

 

Running over in my head all the reasons

why it may be better this way -

As death is certain this is academic

But strangely seems to help.

If one can find the good in Death

it’s not so unattractive.

I no longer worry, I am resigned

It is my choice to die.

 

So I just lie back and wait for

embrace even my forthcoming Death

And then I hear a sound prayed for weeks ago

But dreaded and hated as I am now

Footsteps coming towards me that I try to ignore

(and ignore their voices too)

And a hand reaches for me, grasps mine

They think I should be happy to be saved

 

But they cannot see I don’t want to be saved

from the Death I was so close to and wanted.

I welcomed it, I willed it, to

Come and release me from the pain

Now I am safe I must endure once more

the suffering, and accept Death again.

So here I am alive and well

Trapped in the prison of life.

Request permission to use this poem
g
Written by
g-rhydian-morgan
Welsh
Published
Aug 24, 2011
Lines·Words
64·438
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell g-rhydian-morgan how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write