Why?

The Moment #3

By Zachary BoulangerPublished 5 years ago • 1 min read

Photo by Ben Sweet on Unsplash

why don't the sun shine

why won't you be mine

did I commit a crime

just trying to calm down my mind

why won't my life be free

just trying to write history

please, oh please god let me be

and maybe then you will see

I am just a guy

trying to get by

I'm trying not to cry

please, just please god tell me why

my mind is a circle

unbelievable

so many people

praise god and steeple

just want to go home

maybe rebuild rome then

I'll find me some better friends

and just breathe, letting the sun back in

sad poetry

About the Creator

Zachary Boulanger

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Keep reading

More stories from Zachary Boulanger and writers in Poets and other communities.

Diagnosis
I need some lyrics to this song wondering how it all went wrong I know that you and I belong so join me please let's move along
By Zachary Boulanger5 years ago in Poets
Housekeeping
Reading glasses swinging back and forth, dangling from a drug store string slung around my neck I said, to myself of course, I never want to wear this kind of thing. But now I do, sometimes. I like the idea of relaxing, being a comfortable woman of the home, swinging open the door in a batik housedress, casually welcoming someone in, pets or as the French say, animals for company, something like that. As if pets had no other reason to be. Years of watching women folding, unfolding, refolding socks, sheets, dinner napkins, a lot happens in those moments of freshly laundered piles heaped onto the sofa, better the dining room table as long as it’s clean of course. My grandparents hung it all out in the sun, flopping away without a care, ironing sheets was necessary. When my paternal grandmother died, the very night she passed over the clothesline, into the black heavens sprinkled with sequins of silver, she came to me in a dream. I stood at a table folding clothes, I became aware that there was someone next to me folding as well. I first recognized her hands, red and wrinklie, with age spots. “Nanny?” I didn’t look toward her; she said in her most comforting southern way, “Don’t be afraid.” Then I turned toward the left looking up, up, up, and there she was all in white, a long crisp gown, fresh and smiling. “I love you.” She’d spoke. Then she was gone.
By ROCK 7 days ago in Poets
Did I Lose Myself Along the Way?
I used to believe in kindness and sincerity, thinking that if I treated others well, they would reciprocate. However, life taught me that people’s hearts can be complex — filled with deception, jealousy, and betrayal.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing2 days ago in Poets
Power of Wisdom
As we all know, Birbal was not only Emperor Akbar’s favorite minister but also loved by most of the commoners. People used to come to him from far and wide for advice on personal matters.
By Ainy Abraham6 days ago in Chapters

Why?

The Moment #3

About the Creator

Zachary Boulanger

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

Comments

Keep reading

Diagnosis

Housekeeping

Did I Lose Myself Along the Way?

Power of Wisdom