Its coming and going,
These feelings are slowing.
The rain continues more,
The water in constant pour.
In this room drowned in desolation,
Meager comfort the only consolation.
I think of who these people are,
Unfamiliar lives and minds by far.
Asking questions till lips curled,
Will not be able to change their world.
Unsure if I am willing or able,
This is real life, not some fable.
I do what I can devoid of bliss,
What sobering living consists of this.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
Its coming and going,
These feelings are slowing.
The rain continues more,
The water in constant pour.
In this room drowned in desolation,
Meager comfort the only consolation.
I think of who these people are,
Unfamiliar lives and minds by far.
Asking questions till lips curled,
Will not be able to change their world.
Unsure if I am willing or able,
This is real life, not some fable.
I do what I can devoid of bliss,
What sobering living consists of this.
