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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2004890
The stories used to be there...
For as long as I can remember,
The stories used to be there,
Offering another world,
Where I can escape my pain,
But as the days go by,
I start to realize,
The stories have moved past me,
And I am on my own.

How do you escape the world,
If there is no path of escape?
How do you turn your back on pain,
If there is no world around you,
How does one survive…
When the world has died around you.

I am tired of the suffering,
Of the silent tears and age old aches.
I don’t want to feel it,
I just want to escape.

But the stories have abandoned me,
Leaving me inside the dark alone.
How can I live without the stories,
That offered me such freedom?

I am tired, I am done.
I have no one to turn to.
For everywhere I go,
I find people who have left me.

How can the world move on without me?
How can some stay behind?
How did I end up on this road alone?

The answers, too, are past me.
© Copyright 2014 J.K. Van'Ellesad (vanellesad at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2004890-Moving-on-Alone