Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2023
Whispering winds and rustling trees,
The grass, a bench and quiet pleas.
A solace found, where sorrows nest,
My weary heart, finds silent rest.

A sturdy bench with its wooden frame,
Supports the weight of heavy shame.
Overcast mind and thoughts in storm
The bench suspends my melancholy form.

Outside of these internal struggles,
Happiness is everywhere, its me with these troubles.
Family picnics, kids play on the hill,
Friends laugh together, as I sit frozen still.

How do they do it, I can't help but wonder,
they dance in the sun, while I'm stuck with the thunder.
No sadness is seen, just smiles and glee,
I see that it is possible, but is it possible for me?

But then I remember, as the day comes and goes,
We all have our moments, the highs and the lows.
Today I am here, sat alone in the rain,
But Tomorrow I'll dance in the sunshine again.
Sometimes, the loneliest place is in a crowd.
Written by
Hugo Pierce  23/M/England
(23/M/England)   
619
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems