Keep your head down.

Keep your chin up.

And smile;

it’s what she does.

Always look on the bright side

even through dark skies

and clouds and tears.

And she remembers a time

when she felt so alive,

but it isn’t now

and it isn’t here.

And she wonders what changed her

and made her be sorry

and constantly worry

about things no one could ever change.

And how does she feel now?

And why does she want more?

She used to be smarter.

She used to know better.

She always thought it would be that way.

She took them for granted,

the things she was handed,

and now they have left this place.

And her good parts, they followed,

and left her alone here

in this apathetic world.

Now all that she’s left with

are opaque memories

and hazy outlines

of better times.

So bittersweet.

Ugly and glorious

in the same sentence.

Hated and loved in a singular breath.

And she thought she should change back

and be more than she is now, but she is scared to death.

The tides, they have turned;

all bridges have burned.

She’s stranded in this melancholy place

with nothing but time,

inconsistent rhymes,

and that odd look upon her face.

3 thoughts on “Progressing

  1. What a waste..but now why you will write again, ideas would come and you will smile, in a matter of time..keep hope living and try to be sweet and loving :))

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