Duty Poem by angelica dela cruz
Duty
The hour grows near.
I've come to pass
better days.
Falling down,
heavy with despair,
I flail
desperately to
the nearest hold,
unmindful of appearance.
How far it seems!
How wretched I
must look.
They wait
on the other side,
taunting me,
flaunting love
and trust.
I cry in frustration,
as I am dragged
deeper
by the ones
I love.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
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4/24/2024 9:48:46 PM # 1.0.0.1119
