Watering Poem by Tristian Ford

The words one feels the need to write
are drowned out
by what he thinks he must learn
Still, he doesn't hold his breath
He never seems to do enough of either
Saved from drowning,
but left in a lake of joy and sorrow
Not knowing how he has the strength
to make it to tomorrow
Yesterday, he drowned out the thought
It's not his bravado
God's hand is keeping his head
from going below

But mock my words when I say,
"There is no other way we still exist
Without hoping that tomorrow
God comes down
And puts an end to all of this."