I thought of summers
long ago into the past;
as I did I felt a gloom
wash over me so fast.
My head down I see
others who like me I
have my head where
I don’t look at my sky.
Pounding goes a tune
inside the part of me
I’ve gloom in a room
and it is all I can see.
My form matches us
as we walk down past
places we found joy
but nothing ever lasts.
The load you can bear
has rendered you lame;
where feet can’t travel.
A place there I’m same.
My form functioning I
contort me into a form
that is alien to a mind as
to me an eye conforms.
Judge me not my love
I have dived in chasms
that have chipped skin
away so I surpass them.
The void where we do
stare at it is so hollow.
So in my struggle I am
on a path hope follows.
It is one where it hides,
the hope I feel it inside;
a mountain it survives,
my past I try disguise.
