Lost Hope and a Fraying Rope

March 22, 2012
By Bryar BRONZE, Pleasant Hill, Illinois
Bryar BRONZE, Pleasant Hill, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
If you're losing your soul and you know it, then you've still got a soul left to lose.
~Charles Bukowski

Hidden in the darkest place,
Happiness he tried to chase,
A heart now lost without a trace,
Sadness has brought it there to stay,
It sits in a forgotten room locked away,

Trapped just too always wait,
Without life and full of hate,
Stolen from a man who decided his own fate,
Until he no longer could handle the pain,
Thinking he finally had gone insane,
Wondering why he let sadness in,
He knew he couldn’t win,
Always burning underneath his skin,
A battle he fought every day,
But he fought all the way,
The man will always have to cope,
From the night he lost all hope,
He sat in a black room with a rope,
To try to end the sadness that had him blind,
That he felt inside his tattered mind,
No longer could he take the abuse,
Having nothing left he tied his noose,
Knots so tight they wouldn’t come loose,
Gallows hanging in wait,
Then the man decided his fate,
Sorrows he was unable to mend,
Aware of what is about to transcend,
The man’s choice was to suspend,
Painful life he thought he couldn’t bear,
As the man swung struggling for air,
Lost the idea of wrong from right,
But the man wouldn’t end without a fight,
So he tried to escape with all his might,
One last breath filled his lungs,
And the noose fell where it hung,
He made it out of the room,
Where he nearly met his doom,
Almost creating his own tomb,
But he would still have to pay a price,
Walking away with his life will have to suffice,
For he lost his heart that day,
Next to a rope he helped to fray,
Left behind in a dark room where it will stay.
~Bryar Pruett 2/21/2012

The author's comments:
When i first started writing this, in the end the man in the poem was going to die, but i started writing and it just turned into the man almosting lossing his life. I want people to see that death is nothing compared to lossing all hope. The man in the poem lost more then he would have lost if he would have died, but those who read this can decide their own meaning in my poem. Thats what truly matters.

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