Tired one, tired one, when will you lay down your arms? Tired one, tired one how long will the world scream at you? You look for grace in matters you do not understand. Waiting, waiting, for the push and the pull to stop. Is it a hand you want? A hand to hold? Or do you want someone to walk away on a path of silver and gold. Sometimes the ocean and the sand can be the ones that will help you with your plan.
Please do not forget that you are human my dear. For life is not often black and white. Life is either an illusion, a game, or something in between. Your truth is yours and yours alone it lies within your heart and within your bones. If the voice of reason scatters to the wind that is your own sin. For in your vulnerability reason is what protects you. Look to the sky my dear, say a prayer, wish upon a star. Whatever it may be to bring you peace. Tired one, tired one, is it time to finally come home?
About the Creator
Jillian A. Weiss
I'm 24 years old looking to put myself out there as a writer and make my voice heard. I write poetry and fiction. I may branch out into other genres too. If you like my work please leave a tip!
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The day I let her go
The day I let her go, I held my hands up and looked to God above, always near, always here. That is what I was taught. Everything on this Earth is temporary, here today and gone tomorrow. We don't know what we have until it's gone. And so here I sit at my desk, wondering, how and when this became such a mess? Empathy comes naturally to me, when I see the hurt, no one is free. When a person becomes a part of me. There is no rest for the weary. I know this isn't goodbye, it's see you later. However, each time we are apart. I can't help but think of you and the masks that those other girls will wear.
By Jillian A. Weiss3 years ago in Poets
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