I don’t want to feel
what has come to be.
Powerless to stop
what is becoming.
The truth,
or so it would seem,
lies buried within
dormant feelings
not seen.
If not given time
The feelings will die.
Sometimes I think
I should slowly
wither instead.
Perilous it seems
the ability to see
the wrong of it all.
I lack empathy
to feel
what is right.