creative writing, mental health, Uncategorized

The Barrel- A poem for the end of February. 

The barrel looked stable,

but really,

it was empty.

A hollow void lies beneath

the strong walls.

Can they really protect you?
The barrel rolled around-

no balance.

Where’s the stability?

The rounded edges,

so smooth looking, but splintered,

cannot hold you up.
But the barrel shrunk

until you

we’re looking down it, into it.

Empty; fuelled; dark.

You wanted to momentarily fill the void

and spark the darkness to a brief moment of light.
But that,

a life,

was a heavy sacrifice for a moment of hope.

1 thought on “The Barrel- A poem for the end of February. ”

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