The Storm

I see it over there on the horizon and dread what it is to come.

Knowing there is no escaping makes me feel all numb.

Oh why on why do I feel this way, I thought I got help.

Yet the pain persists and the storms do come, all I wanna do is 

yelp.

Yet the tears from the past were never wiped, why bother even try.

The fact that I'm headed right in, swallow, gulp, and shout.

Emotions awash, blood is boiling, how do I get out of here.?

The fact of the matter i'm trapped inside and all I can do is wait.

Painfully feeling out of sync with who i'm meant to be.

Its gone on so long that I can no longer grasp this part of 

reality.

Looking in the mirror at the person, looking back at me.

He seems a stranger on this boat, of life's journey.

Thunder and lightening calming down perhaps there will be

some clarity. 

Exhausted, tired, and wind swept, are familiarity. Yet here I am

still fighting, fighitng to become me. 

This latter part was a mystery, up until recently. 

Turning my back on the past, the painful part of me. Yet this

is what is necessary, to become eternally free.

With a swagger in my walk, smile on my face, life has suddenly

got happy. 

 

(For all those who are struggling, your next step, 

action, call to a friend, may be the one that sets you free. Never

give up). 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My country
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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