another one

The creeping sadness, blurs the edges of the dream
like a mist descending, quietly invading
the oblivion of sleep

The muted melancholy tugs at my waking
worming its way carefully, inexorably,
into the numb routine of every day life

The quiet sorrows bubble from within
rising to the surface, sharp, piercing,
evoking bittersweet memories of broken dreams and dashed hopes

And the tears slide down silently,
like rivulets of raindrops
a mute testament to the emptiness inside.
mf, final version, June 08

I am not depressed. Let me just get that out of the way. If anything, perhaps one can say that I am a tad melodramatic which is why I like to write these sad, pathetic poetry if you can call it that. Mostly, when inspiration hits, I get about a few lines, which turn to unwieldy ones such as this because I stretch the words out. For this one, I wrote the first lines without much effort but the following paragraphs took soooo long. I must have oh four or five versions of this before I settled on this one.

Here's another example of the skewed sense of humor that my muse has:

Wishes...
prayers whispered fervently
in corridors of hope
dreams, what might be
trying to change reality

that's it, I couldn't turn it into a halfway decent ( for me at least) poem so I left it at that and just turned the first line into the title of my blog instead.