deepundergroundpoetry.com
Slipping
Was there a silent cry or sob for help
Before slipping the pills (or was it a belt?)
Along sinewy grooves of a neck always stuck out,
A throat tired from calling out for hope,
Arms weary without anything left to hold
Until his mind reminds him it's time to let go,
Slipping into the oblivion of space to float
Until crashing into the end of the tattered rope.
Cold echoes resonate down empty corridors now long abandoned
As strangers' eyes stare judgingly into the core of a lost soul,
Chilly eyes that are, not surprisingly, none other than his own,
But there is always more waiting on the other end of that road
And it's a difficult road to walk alone.
Before slipping the pills (or was it a belt?)
Along sinewy grooves of a neck always stuck out,
A throat tired from calling out for hope,
Arms weary without anything left to hold
Until his mind reminds him it's time to let go,
Slipping into the oblivion of space to float
Until crashing into the end of the tattered rope.
Cold echoes resonate down empty corridors now long abandoned
As strangers' eyes stare judgingly into the core of a lost soul,
Chilly eyes that are, not surprisingly, none other than his own,
But there is always more waiting on the other end of that road
And it's a difficult road to walk alone.
Published 2nd Aug 2015
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2nd Aug 2015 7:30am
2nd Aug 2015 3:48pm
yet another excellent write :-)
'Cold echoes resonate down empty corridors now long abandoned ' could almost feel that
:-)
'Cold echoes resonate down empty corridors now long abandoned ' could almost feel that
:-)
3rd Aug 2015 5:49pm
"Chilly eyes that are, not surprisingly, none other than his own." That's a great line. It sounds like the kind of solitude that might be self-enforced to some extent. Excellent work Sammy.
