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Just Done
January 12, 2015
contemplating the end,
willing to lend my joy,
as if it were a plush toy,
to the inner sadness that kills,
as much as I flee,
it is clear to me,
my soul is clouded,
full of expectations,
regrets,
fear,
but most of all,
it is the people who are so dear,
so very near,
yet it is obvious my dismay was caused by the pain,
and the stains of tears,
from being judged,
ignored,
forgotten,
and done.
© Tabatha B., Peoria, IL
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