top of page

Morning Dispare

I miss being scared of monsters under my bed.

And not of who's next with a bullet in their head.

Who next on the morning news,

names uttered twice before the weather. To be Forgotten sometime later.

I miss the joy of Christmas morning

in its wake, sorrowful funerals with ceremonies, a gift to those to mourn the dead.

But dwell not on the lives of those once loved,

as a test in morrow's morning, just as famed as the last.

So Cast those names off your tongue like rain in the sun.

And by morning, you'll forget those songs once sung.


And while I hover over the test, so important

I feel as though the world is too distorted.

But when my cries are lost to the wind, so morbid.

Who blinks an eye at desperate words carried by hellish howls.

Who to think, to care.

to answer those cries of despair,

to cut through the morning air

And morn the cries of a child in a world that doesn't care

Nobody blinks an eye unless it affects them or their heirs

So Im to cover my skin, squeeze my heart, and dye my hair.

So I, too, can be taken with the morning air.

To drift over the world's sorrows like the rest of those who once cared.

And become just another kid who dared challenge the monsters under her bed.





Note: I wrote this when life got a lil silly! so sorry for the depressing subject, anyway though i thought it was fun to write :)


7 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


bottom of page