Dear, Passion Withholder

Wed, 02/07/2018 - 20:10 -- kait456

Dear passion withholder,

 

A bright sunny day,

and now there I lay.

Tears flowing from my eyes,

and all i can ask is why?

With one crash;

I see my life flash.

The experiences;

are now grievances.

Why did you have to fall?

With not even a call?

No warning,

and now i’m morning 

With no stick in my hand;

I feel as if i’m in a far away land.

Completely lost,

and for what cost?

The water washing on shore;

only wanting to feel more?

Was it worth it?

To crash into me;

and not let me be?

Causing me to lose sight of myself,

and having nothing else.

You took more away than movement.

You took away my amusement.

My passion,

my drive,

and now I feel as if i live in demise;

and don’t lie.

Do you still feel wise?

My game has been stripped from me;

the game of field hockey will never be.

Not again;

will it begin?

Not for me;

will it ever be?

 

Yours truly,

Kaitlyn (the victim of your thoughtlessness)

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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