Shannen Wrass

(Wisconsin)

Time Out To Cry ©


All alone at the end of the day
The time, just a little past ten
Evening has come for a short stay
It’s time for her sorrow again
The smile on her face she’s been holding
Suddenly, she lets fall
And the feelings begin unfolding
She comes out of her personal wall
As the world settles down for the night
She awakens herself from a dream
The girl they thought had life going right
No longer the image she seemed
She takes off the disguise she’s wearing
Opens her heart to the truth
Now behind closed doors she’s not caring
About life, or love in her youth
She sits by the mirror spilling tears
And she cries by herself in the dark
Hours of acting like there’s no fears
Takes a lot from an empty heart
Inside she’s lonely and sad
But acts like she's fine by day
In her misery, wishing she had
A friend, or a promise to stay
Ashamed of the truth she’s been keeping
Living hours in daylight a lie
This is the reason in darkness she’s weeping
Taking time out from each day to cry

Submitted: Sunday, September 15, 2013
Edited: Monday, October 28, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Copyright © 1995 Shannen Wrass. All Rights Reserved

Comments about this poem (Time Out To Cry © by Shannen Wrass )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]