Poetry: Days

                                   Days


The salty tears of her heart,

Drenched the pillows every night, 

Fear and sadness creeps through her sleepless mornings, 

What is the use of a woman, 

When love was what she gave,
But rejection is returned, 

God please heal this wounded mind, 

Maybe I'm just too weak, 

And my soul's ripped of joy, 

Black sorrow now fills my day, 

With every moment of stillness, 

Comes despair and hope seems miles away, 

I'm trying to climb this ladder of life,
But at every step I slip, I fall,
How many times do I have to get hurt,
Just so I could taste the sweet nectar of love,



These days have been mellow,
Age has been nothing proud to celebrate now,
Or maybe it is,
Grow old with grace they say,
Dear wise ones, am I on the wrong path,
Why then these feelings of hopelesness grounds me,
Under my pillow that robs my peace,
and in my veins that flows with fate,
Is it too much to ask of your guardian angel,
To sneak into my soul and mend it,
Maybe bring back that lost young soul,
That was once carefree and adventurous,
That's all for now I wish upon the brightest Star,

I'm angry when days get rough,
Clueless to every unanswered questions through my years,
"Why" had been the most difficult pill to swallow,
Like a disease with no cure,
Or like the scent of death that lingers,
And amidst the laughters that echoes in a living house,
I found no meaning, no reasons, just existence,
Although some "Why's" led me to unjustified conclusions,
It is in my conciousness therein lies,
To see the good from the bad,
Light from darkness,
To stay bounded to sanity,


By Jessica John Posko 💗