PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Maybe it's my own fault,

I am too late to where

I wanted to be.

Now I find my words,

which I tried to use

for comfort and to care,

mean nothing at all.

They are like chaff in the wind,

blown away,

ignored.

As if they never existed.

I guess my pessimism

got the best of me.

The despair and depression

that entangled me,

did so with the words I often spoke.

Now so much,

that words I try to speak

seem to cause more harm

than good.

I guess my thoughts

no longer matter.

The words can no longer

bring peace.

The cares I had,

now unknown.

All because my words

brought destruction

in their wake.

Now it will be as if

I cried wolf again,

and people see the words

as they have seen me

all along.

The wolf.