Photo by Ehsan Eslami on Unsplash
This was supposed to be over
And every time I say that,
I’m wrong
Do I belong among
the mystics and dreamers;
The believers who do,
despite what is true?
This goes out to the ones who
have waited well
Who have walked through hell
Who in tension dwell
Those who lumber below the weight
of burdens that were never supposed to
be theirs
Those to whose sorrow,
none can compare
I stand and stare
Boring holes into the blackest night
One of them must give way to the light
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About the Creator
Kt
I embarked to my favorite coastline several years ago in search of feeling in a dark season and accdientally wrote a poem. I have written ever since.
Poetry is what my friends know me for, but words burn in my bones.
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