I can't believe I thought that
I'm tired,
but tears still do not flow.
Craving to sleep forever,
but afraid of nightmares,
I remain 'opened eyed.'
I can't believe I thought that
I had to always be strong,
so I became a stereotype.
It's hard being a silent lion.
This masculinity has literally killed me.
I'm too old to be king of a jungle,
so take my throne and wear my crown.
My joints are too worn to hunt,
but my roar is ready for expression,
so let me show my vulnerability.
I guess, now I'm the prey?
But what made you the predator,
suggesting, I am a victim?
Never realised life would move so fast,
nor make me so stubborn,
when, in reality, I should have learned my lesson.
I know I'm not a priority,
I'll always be second best,
but all I ask is to walk with you
in fields of fairness
and, maybe, just to be loved -
even in small doses.
If you cannot understand today,
maybe you will realise tomorrow
and, despite the heartache -
I forgive you and take all of the blame.
I'll always be a tree for you to shelter,
although you have taken each and every leaf.
When you are lost in the wilderness,
I'll be the compass to guide you home.
Before, I leave,
is there a final request?
I know you won't ask me to stay
because in this illness,
I feel worthless...
Wishing my walls would fall
but still, I refuse to crumble.
This summer there will be no sunflowers,
as all I feel is sorrow,
in a sky which is blue,
but raining in red.
Copyright ©
Silent One
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