I don't want to write a sad poem
but that's all i've got.
I want to write something happy
but my mind's started to rot.
This infinatly expaninding migraine
leaves the happy thoughts out of reach.
Maybe they'll return full of stories
and caked in sand from some unknown beach.
perplexed as to why i feel as i do.
They'll soothe me with quiet words and shaking hands
Waiting to leave on their next big adventure.
They'll hike through snow and golden sands
before the get home, if they ever do.
will they find me as i am now
sad scared scarred and broken
or will i have changed somehow
still scared and scarred