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How Things Are
When I lay in bed at night,
Before I let the darkness cover me like a blanket,
And finally let my mind rest,
From all of the dark, deep thoughts I have to wonder about,
I like to think of what else is happening,
Somewhere else in this messed up world,
Good things are sure to be taking place,
Weddings with happy couples,
Babies opening their eyes to their new life,
But are these things really good ones?
Marriage ends in screams and fights,
Leaving just two more lonely people in this world,
Babies will grow up and shed their coat of innocence,
And suffer like we all do each day,
So are these things really miracles?
And I know for a fact that horrible things are taking place too,
Murderers are smiling at that last breath of their victim,
Starving children’s stomachs are growling for the last time,
And everything, including all that’s on our Earth, is dying,
Each breath we take,
Every minute we exist,
We’re dying more and more,
Getting closer to whatever comes next,
Heaven?
Hell?
Nothingness?
And I’m wondering day to day what the answers I need could be,
But that’s just how things are, how things have to be.
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This article has 15 comments.
Sill,
See "Cedar Point Beach",
"The Run",
"The Shoe"...
Happy poems.... all!