Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2012
Loss hits hard.
Thoughts begin again.
Late night attempt.
Insomniac attack.

No laughter heard.
No joy sounded.
No smile seen.
No tears fall.

Exanimation at its best.
Not depressed,
Not sad,
Not happy, nor mad.
Just Dead.

These are the times to dread the most.
Rather than feel,
You die inside.
Written by
Kristin Vislocky
411
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems