I Used To Be

October 28, 2016

I used to be

an optimist of old

who sang

laughed

clapped

and taught doubters her many high ways.

Now I am

an optimist of shackles,

weighed and bore down by

tears

fruitless laughter

sorry glances

and endless drowning thoughts of death,

each breath bidding her quick arrival.

--thedoubtingbutterfly-- 10/28/16

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

Comments are closed for this poem.