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Sunday, 5 February 2023

Poem: The act of leaving


 

it's not that I've fallen,

but I feel stuck, as if

I've fallen down the fountain,

and my friends are just

echoes of ghosts in the walls

 

it's not that I've drowned,

but I feel as if, I'm drowning

somewhere deeper into the depths

of the dark hues of the ocean

and I'm neither heard nor seen

 

it's not that I've failed,

but I don't seem to understand

the game they are playing

as if we're actors in a masquerade

and I don't want to play my part

 

it's not that I am eager to leave,

but I don't want to be

living like this any longer

we're all growing, and sometimes

it feels as if we outgrow the space we are in


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