The Story With No End

another poem about personal struggles.

Tell me this tale you have

Speak to me of it

For I greatly long to hear it

Or get out

Then it’s to the door

I grow weary of this tale

And of speaking it

Or has it escaped you

Just once more

Let me hear those words on your lips

See how I yearn

Or will this be the end

Continue with your threats

My lips will be silent, as should yours

This story has naught to offer

Or do you desire the end

There is no end

The story with no end, is what you said

You cause me to quake

Or do you no longer care

This act hardly suits you

I told you what you need then

Back when you needed the story

Before you grew

I still need the story

It is what holds me together

The growth rests on the story

Or is that foolish

This won’t become explosive

Let the story go

There are no new applications left

You’re different now

Quit telling me what I am

You never listen to me

Just tell me the story

Or are you done

If I were done, I’d be gone

If I were done, the story won’t exist

If I were done, this place would burn

If I were done, you’d be dead

Reviews

[Maggie]

Wicked good.

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Direct, pointed to purpose, the reader loves the act of which you find words, well done, good read x

[hmm]

I really loved this, your last stanza is the best.
Love this write.