deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Quiet Ones
Many times I wish to die,
But the great God above
Never answers my prayers.
In His infinite wisdom,
He judges
That I should suffer more.
Enduring trials and tribulations
Yet unseen,
Experiencing still more heartache and pain,
To be a beast of burden.
Chief of which, is a woman who claims to love me.
But her's is a mercurial, enigmatic love.
She has no understanding of what true love is,
Nor then is she able to share it.
She is lost in the bedroom,
Having no sexual desire.
She is a twisted crown of thorns
To be worn by a fool such as me.
Many times, I wish to cry,
But there are no longer tears.
Each new day is a day to be endured.
Complaining is of no use,
We've covered these subjects all before,
A thousand times
With never any progress made.
We are who we are.
I suppose if I were to be very generous
I could say that she loves me the best she can,
Though she will never love me like she should.
There are no words, only wanting and waiting.
And so, as they say,
"It is the quiet ones you need to watch."
But the great God above
Never answers my prayers.
In His infinite wisdom,
He judges
That I should suffer more.
Enduring trials and tribulations
Yet unseen,
Experiencing still more heartache and pain,
To be a beast of burden.
Chief of which, is a woman who claims to love me.
But her's is a mercurial, enigmatic love.
She has no understanding of what true love is,
Nor then is she able to share it.
She is lost in the bedroom,
Having no sexual desire.
She is a twisted crown of thorns
To be worn by a fool such as me.
Many times, I wish to cry,
But there are no longer tears.
Each new day is a day to be endured.
Complaining is of no use,
We've covered these subjects all before,
A thousand times
With never any progress made.
We are who we are.
I suppose if I were to be very generous
I could say that she loves me the best she can,
Though she will never love me like she should.
There are no words, only wanting and waiting.
And so, as they say,
"It is the quiet ones you need to watch."
Published 6th Dec 2022
Author's Note
Not a cry for help, rather a perpetual rant regarding how she is and what we'll never be.
"A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener. So our prospects brighten on influx of better thoughts. We should be blessed if we live in the present always, and took advantage of every accident that befell us, like the grass which confesses the influence of the slightest dew that falls on it; and did not spend our time in atoning for the neglect of past opportunities, which we call doing our duty. We loiter in winter while it is already spring. In a pleasant spring morning all men's sins are forgiven. Such a day is a truce to vice." - Henry David Thoreau
"A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener. So our prospects brighten on influx of better thoughts. We should be blessed if we live in the present always, and took advantage of every accident that befell us, like the grass which confesses the influence of the slightest dew that falls on it; and did not spend our time in atoning for the neglect of past opportunities, which we call doing our duty. We loiter in winter while it is already spring. In a pleasant spring morning all men's sins are forgiven. Such a day is a truce to vice." - Henry David Thoreau
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 278
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
