Cured, I am not
I am not cured
I am not cured
I am. Not cured.
If I keep saying it
One line after another
I am not cured
Either yes or no
'Cured' is what we want
It stares at me from the chair
The lack of a cure
It stares and stares
I can't
I just
I can't
Wishing believing
Hoping it to be true
It's all about me
It's all about you
Waiting watching
For the moment to be mine
When there is a cure
When there is a time
When normality is free
When normality is now
When we stop talking about you and me
When we look up
Look at the sky
Think and wonder
Why? Why? Why?
Twisting
Thinking
Back to front
Hoping
Praying
That all will be well
That all will be fine
I can't see the future
I can only see the past
When did I run?
When did I come last?
Overtaken
Over run
Over and under
Life used to be fun
But what is it now?
What has it become?
What is life?
What have we become?
We wander through the day
We wander through the life
That we want to live
That we have started to miss
Mistaken identity
Mistaken mistook
Stop giving me that look
That look of yester year
That look of fear
That look
That says a single tear
Perfect piece Julie! Thank you. It's raw, relentless and brutally honest....and therein lies it power, and to me beauty.
I echo Dawson's comments, the frustration is overwhelming at times.
Powerful words I can feel your frustration jumping off the page! We all hope for ythat elusive cure 😣