Buckwheat

the highs and lows of your  words all lead to my dismay,

I felt the world fall beneath my feet,

towers of oceans engulfed me with hearsay.

inconsolable did I become,

bitter, frail and undesirable as last season's buckwheat,

I was a chum.

as time elapsed,

fear, regret and pain that haunted me evaded my soul,

I lost my self, my once joyous spirit, collasped.

never did I contend,

to lose the very things I once distinguished myself to have,

broken down i consulted with a friend.

Open all my souls harm,

cried till all reason and questions were lost,

at last the pain that haunted is disarm.

as the tomorrows roll by,

I'll take one breathe to remind myself,

to continue to lose sight of the ground and ensure my dreams fly.