When what we believe

In our hearts and soul,

Becomes layered in anxiety

Wishing not to be retold.

Same saga, a different day,

And the adage, ‘old news’

Shreds us while alone inside.

We keep waiting for a something,

A normalcy exists,

Well out of reach.

We’re trying to lean forward,

Yet, somewhere a confusion

Draws all of our energy.

We’re left dangling on the crest

Of our being, pray a lost identity.