I trusted that the sun
would rise again
I trusted it would do so
but I suppose it grew weary of
the pressure of my dependency
and the monotony of its cycle
for it did not rise today
as it had for me every day before
Today.
I trusted that the flowers
would blossom this spring
as they had every spring
but they seemed to go the other way
to cave inwardly
and trickle shamefully
into the ground
afraid to be exposed
in sunlight that didn’t care to shine.
They trickled further
all the more calloused
in their wrong-way-wayward ways
that I had never seen them follow before
Today.
Bryce Langston is from a small town in central Florida. He writes because he enjoys finding and capturing the symbolism and metaphors in everyday life. Bryce’s hobbies include playing guitar, playing tennis, and reading.