The Unseen

Each day, the same old…..

Like a robot I follow, knowing no joy, variety or zeal….

The chatter continues, no matter what.

I know not what holds me back.

Yet; I fight waiting….for a day unlike the others…

I close my ears, the chatter goes on…

It rises from a mumble to a cacophony.

I can take it no more.

Yet I wait, for a difference…a day, unlike the others….

Insecurity presses on; under its weight, I crumble.

I move around, unaware of my world…

Darkness engulfs me.

I grope, reaching for that hand. That hand, of help…

Struggling through the blackness, I stop.

I close my eyes; for that miracle.

Like the hand, it never comes.

Fumbling amidst the gloom, I stumble. I try again…

I am greeted by silence.

Seeing no ray of hope, I sit down and start to believe…

Believe, in the unseen….

An unseen that says, ‘I will take care.’

An unseen that says, ‘I need your trust.’

An unseen that says, ‘Let go.’

An unseen that says, ‘It is okay.’

An unseen that says, ‘It will happen.’

An unseen that says, ‘Take charge.’

An unseen that says, ‘Take flight.’

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This entry was posted in Somber. Or something like that. by Ria Gandhi. Bookmark the permalink.

About Ria Gandhi

“I really think I write about everyday life. I don't think I'm quite as odd as others say I am. Life is intrinsically, well, boring and dangerous at the same time. At any given moment the floor may open up. Of course, it almost never does; that's what makes it so boring.” ― Edward Gorey

4 thoughts on “The Unseen

  1. u can really write soooooooooo well if u write from ur heart……………….. try not thinking and writing much the christmas stuff n all is boring u can write really well and this poem is proof of it just write about things that u reALLY feel for REALLY FEEL FOR.and itll turn out beautifully like this has:):) uve done well

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