the man and a laptop, a sea beyond
A long a stormy night
Gloom and despair filling the air yet there is silence.
Fires surrounding me as I wait to be saved yet there is no hope
I write my days with my laptop, a thing I must hold dear, my life written and not forgotten for it remains in word.
Shells and sea clash between my feet as I grow old, my computer still working, for reasons I don’t know.
My friends, my family, even my dog. Are but a distant memory for where I am done.
Night and day, sun and moon, my companions in all. For this I remember, a salty sea slug.
Dinner for many, meal for me, I must survive in order to see beyond.
Months, days, years. My body withers, yet not my computer, as it remains there.
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.
Your Poem's Voice
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.