It’s like a labyrinth.
A maze of twists and turns,
dead ends and false hopes.
Right, left, straight, up, down-
dead end. Turn around.
Keep going. Keep trying.
One risk here, one risk there
Don’t chance going that way
Too late. That was a mistake.
Can’t even climb the walls
What if I ran? Still the same
The solitude is the worst
No one to turn to but stone
Keep going. Keep trying.
Miles and miles, hour by hour
Day by day, year by year
But hope still remains,
That maybe one day
I’ll find what I’ve been searching for
About the Creator
Colorful Chaotic
I write to keep the demons at bay.
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More stories from Colorful Chaotic and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Business of Nature
Dew drops reflected the light of the sun. The inhabitants of Whispering Woods woke up to the golden droplets of water on the leaves of the flora. The oaks particularly enjoyed the light and the maples did, too. Happiness enveloped all who lived there, even the rocks that cried out in the night delighted in the morning.
By Skyler Saunders6 days ago in Fiction
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