The Graying

“She wasn’t supposed to feel like this”

The baby’s crying in the other room,
And she feels helpless, empty in the graying;
She can’t describe the hopelessness she feels,
The gulls are crying all that she’s not saying

The waves, they murmur listlessly in choir:
The sky with dank oppression now is rife —
To just find hope again’s her one desire,
Amid the graying tank that is
Her life

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

One thought on “The Graying”

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