How we can teach if we don't care
How can we love when we don't feel
How can we move forward when we're still stuck in the past
Don't we want wisdom?
Love unconditional?
Peace without pain?
Love thyself as you would want others to love you...
No, I want to love you the way you should love yourself.
It's always something in the way
Always misunderstanding, no communication
Double standards and hypocrisy
Seems like the madness will never end
Wish we could hold it all in the palm of our hand...
Crush the doubt's and mistrust
Build it all over again in our favor...
But there is no such thing as an easy way out...
Would rather take the hard road that leads to you anyway
About the Creator
Ebony Brown
Female, 21. I write poetry. Single mom.
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Poets and other communities.
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.