In The End

Restrained by my own hand,
I stagnate, going grey.
Through fingers, like sand,
Time slips away.
What could have been,
Never happened.
Now there is nothing,
I am alone.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace