Parent poem: zelrizeal - fingertips



it never leaves you.

like the memory of a first

kiss or the sound of

your mother’s voice.

it hangs over you

like a dark cloak,

hiding you and

hiding the world from you.

sometimes you think it’s gone-

think it’s finally left, finally faded-

but that’s all hope and tricks of

that damaged mind of yours.

a thought

can call it back


always calls it back.

and the same

dark cover

falls over

bright eyes

and the illusion of hope is lost and

the illusion of being


is lost


you are swallowed up by

your own doubts…

The End

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