Scramble

I scramble
In search for the me I lost
The one with goals
Aspirations
&
Life.

So swollen with emotions forgotten
Giving names to the tears
That run from me
That hide from me
&
They drip to their deaths,
Like most other things….

Disorderly dents here
Chaos climbing to the soul
So many sighs
So much to do
&
Yet worth nothing at all,
These days.

I scramble
In search for the end of the tunnel
Ever so lost
Empty
&
Drained.

Of this.
All this.

Bullshit.

Reviews

[Warick Ten Bohmer]

I sort of feel like the ending ruined it, but it's your poem and your choice of words, up till that point I was more or less able to connect with it.

A decent poem well worth the read.