For most,
the early mornings
are a rush.
For most,
the late afternoons
are clamorous.
The sunlight
shows our sorrows,
and we are too busy
to notice.
We go unattended
into the noise.
We become
a little more
f r a c t u r e d.
We drift apart
from ourselves
until the reflections
are not our own.
We drift apart
from each other
until we are so alone
the ache becomes routine.
The night comes, and we sleep
and hope to remember our dreams,
that they will still come true.
The blue transmutes to black,
and we are dead to the world.
The stars hold their tongues
above us as if in quiet reflection.
The saccharine moon bows
as if in mourning for our hearts.
Steven Bruce is a poet, writer, and award-winning author. His poetry and short stories have appeared in magazines, webzines, and anthologies worldwide. In 2018, he graduated from Teesside University with a Master’s Degree in Creative Writing. He is the recipient of the Indies Today Five-star Recommendation Badge. Born in the North of England, he now lives and writes full-time out of an apartment in Barcelona.
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Wow, this is just an another level of poetry. Hits hard.