04
Aug
14

There Is a Bed–sad version

[I’m usually opposed to poetry. I’ve written my fair share of corny and depressing rhymes. But, every now and then, I opt out of writing my thoughts as a novel. This is one of those occasions. In this first incarnation, it’s a negative outlook. In my effort to cheer myself up and think more positively, I will endeavor to let my imagination run wild and write an uplifting alternative afterward.]

 

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There’s a bed waiting for me,
Waiting to catch me when I fall,
Waiting to offer relief when I grow weak,
Waiting to make promises it can’t keep,
Waiting for me to fail,
Waiting for me to make another mistake,
Waiting to put up with me quitting too soon one more time,
Waiting to turn every “right” I do into one more “wrong.”
Waiting to tell me how to do better,
Waiting for me to spill my tears and share my woes,
Waiting to tell me my misery is my own fault,
Waiting to badger me about how I fail to respect it,
Waiting to ignore my feelings in favor of its words,
Waiting to taunt me with unsettling silence,
Waiting to remind me why it should be number one in my life,
Waiting to tell me it’s okay to be without friends and lovers.

I can fill it with dreams,
Dreams others might think foolish or immature.
Meanwhile, it threatens me with nightmares,
Nightmares others may simply say are part of life.
This matter can not be resolved with sex or drug use.
A one night stunt won’t make the troubles go away.
And, violence is out of the question.

It may not be the worst.
But, it gets its share of negative looks and gossip.
It may not be the most spacious or comfortable.
But, it’s currently free.

For all its worth, the tempting covers are laced with poison.
The frame likes to stick me in the back when my guard is down.
It changes when I expect consistency and reassurance.
It picks at my confidence and robs me of trust.
And, it often makes a terrible sound to disturb my slumber.

Still, I sleep in this bed…alone.
I doubt anyone would want…choose to share it.
A sickness creeps into my gut.
I have a choice.
But, the options are just as daunting and uncertain.

There’s a bed waiting for me,
Surrounded by menacing laughter and potential booby traps.
I can hardly rest with both eyes closed.
And, when morning comes, I struggle to plan my escape.

 

~Writingbolt, 7-30-2014

 

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