A Silent Cry

May 21, 2012
By Anonymous

Some people fear spiders, and bugs, and hurt,
But the fear that I have seems to be so much worse.

The fear of death hits me every day.
I imagine my death, a gun shot in the poring rain.

My tears stain my face as my blood stains within.
A cry escapes my lips as darkness gives in.

It suffocates me, sucking the breath from my lungs till I'm dead;
but than I wake up from my dream, relieved to find I'm in my bed.

Someday I hope to embrace death, not fear it.
But for now I'll still hurt inside, and pretend not to feel it....


The author's comments:
Another poem that came to me one day when I was sitting around doing nothing with my life....

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