a free verse poetry

Written by:

Zerayn D.

It is cold and it’s gonna be cold,
because that’s the way it is,
It is both bitter and sweet.

The leaves grow no more,
they dry up and wind takes them,
they fall to ground, swept away,
flown to the sides and to the unseen corners,
some are swept to the dark edges,
they get stuck without light,
until they decompose.

I am being corrupted inside,
I am becoming someone else,
I don’t have a safe space,
I only have a mask to wear.

I am no stranger to the game,
I’ve seen many played it dirty,
I’ve seen few played it well,
with great sense of integrity.

It is cold,
the leaves are falling,
but the game is on,
I play with a mask,
and a heart rotten inside.