A Tearing At The Seams

A once empty place
A void of dark space and eternal nothing
Slowly the rising color
The trickle of trivial things, the deluge of mindless thoughts
All emotions, great and not so great
The tide is coming in

Only as time can release the pain
Only days and nights can heal the wounds
But now is not the time
Today is not the place in which to rest
For the day has just begun and so much to take in
So much to process, and so much to feel.

If the one can not hold back
If that someone can not demand the little things
The small victories that compel
The bloated sponge
With each second it soaks the cold liquid
Saturated with the million whys, how comes
Till the night of the fading moon

As I look at the patchwork
There at the bottom edge, a tear
And as all imperfect things it grows
The first thought of holding on, grasping the rift
But then the reflection
On what it would be like to open the gates
How the free flow of hate, despair, rage

Like the crack of dawn, the eclipse of night
The fresh beginning of day
If only it were possible
Close up the tear, another day

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM