Face down in the gutter
No hand but my own
You wanted to save me
Today, not yesterday
But yesterday mattered
Today I can pull myself up
You could have saved me yesterday
But all you wanted was a boost
The body aches were real
The tears rightfully salty
The anguish unbearable
But you penciled in my saving for today
And today is no good
You could have saved me yesterday
But your calendar was full
My head is no longer pounding the floor
Although, it may again tomorrow
As I can’t seem to beat this
But your savior cape is muddied
And your wingspan clipped
My eyes are not glamored
My heart pumping even harder
You could have saved me yesterday
You could have
Now I must save myself
Categories: Culture, death, Health, mental health, Poetry, Psychology
so beautifully written!
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Thank you so much
Have a great day ahead
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The dawn begins in Venezuela and your poem lends itself to enjoy it in the stillness of the night.
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Awwe, thank you. Have a great day ahead
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