The Darkest Hour

The insignificence of every event
The lie's and the tear's of a youth mispent
Tediously dragging the day's turn to night
Without the energy to put up a fight
A  million strange face's locked in one's mind
A million strange faces each one so unkind
Debating to do, or to just sit and die
Debating to reason or to not even try
Stretching out an hand, grasping at space
Not a life, an existance
At an endless pace
Looking out on reality
So cold and so cruel
Hiding in the past, who was the fool
For a million strange faces
Then can only stare
A million strange faces
What do they care
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

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