Sometimes, the tears are shadows
Sometimes, the tears are real
Lost in my discomfort
Lost in my days regrets
Questioning if I’m a target
Or is it a curse of life
As I wander the spaces
The pain becomes the only feeling
As the misery is growing
A moment at a time
The comments keep coming
Am I that bad, as the dark clouds gather
I shout to the sky
Is it fate,
I just want to know why
Who am I to garner such things
Such dark thoughts
Such hate
I tried to walk in the light
Though the shadows were always there
Watching, mocking
A narcissistic eye upon me
As I try to win , the story seems already written
The storm clouds have gathered
Will I succeed , or will it be the death of me?
Only time knows the truth
And…
It’s not talking.

An Original Poem By H.R. Beebe