Sea of RegretA Poem by Shayla Sayeri wrote this poem for my younger brother, who is "drowning" himself in drugs and alcohol... this poem is a tribute to him, although it is unlikely that i will ever show it to him.I sigh and watch you resurface I cannot go near this place that you have chosen To make your last stand. And even if I could… Would I kill myself, to force you to win a fate You want no part of? My heart throbs and tells me I would Tells me if I could… If you would accept such a sacrifice… I would do it, give up my last breath, to give you one more. The sea of regret swells towards me And I let it wash over my feet, for while I am afraid Of the inky blackness that creeps along the shore… I cannot leave you in this place, alone. But with every breath you gain You lose it to shout at me Telling me of my faults" Am I the cause of this pain you are enduring…? My head says it cannot be That mantle should rest upon another’s shoulders… But who else would bear such guilt, without bitterness, but I? I know I shouldn’t risk it I know this sea is no place for me… But still I inch my way forward Arms outstretched I only want to hold you Close and ever dear For I know I cannot save you Your drowning is created by your own design This sea of regret lies within your mind And there’s not much I can do Save spend some time with you. You go under again And I rush forward Feet drifting And I grab a hold of you, pulling you to the surface But you claw at me With desperate hands You don’t want, or need, my assistance And as you sink out of sight I realize that I can no longer touch the bottom And as I’m drifting out to sea I notice that there is no one on the shore to save me And I cannot swim in a pool, and these dangerous black waters Hold only nightmares. I begin to shiver and sink Knowing in my heart That my helping only hindered And you don’t even remember my name. © 2011 Shayla SayerFeatured Review
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14 Reviews Added on August 5, 2011 Last Updated on August 5, 2011 AuthorShayla SayerFontana, CAAbouti love to write. i have been penning down my feelings since i was 13. in my own opinion, writing is sort of like love and wine--it only gets better with age. more..Writing
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