when the morning comes…

 

and when the morning comes i shall hope,
that the day will come and bring me a smile,
the one thing i needed the most in these dark times.
for in the weeks that passed my face was obscured by
darkness i could not keep away,
where even the light i hoped would come and shine,
failed to penetrate the shadows of gloom i wore.
i could not see what the future holds for me,
because i don’t feel anyone cared for the hurts i bear,
for even in the midst of living i feel like i’m already
dead.
and yet, here i am hoping that the morrow will come,
bearing changes that will make me smile,
and banish these doubts that cling to my very being.
saving me from myself and the miseries i live with,
freeing me from this prison cell i’ve been locked up
for so long,
and to allow me to live the dreams i often bring,
on those nights when i cry myself to sleep.

-The Elusive Scribe 061613-

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