m i s e r y

this is a poem, by yours truly. I am not morbid or depressing, but I can tap into the spirits around me. That's it.

Misery is a funny thing,

It is not impulsive and instant as anger is,

No, misery opts for a more sly and undercover technique.

Misery sneaks up on you.

Misery slowly slithers through you,

s l o w l y, it suffocates you,

It settles down in the pit of your stomach

And it slowly chokes you.

Misery is often mistaken for pain,

Really, how ludicrous!

Pain is a physical thing,

Misery is not physical.

Misery could not even be classed as emotional.

Misery is best described as a consequence,

How can you put a label on a consequence?

Misery is a snake,

Misery manipulates people into doing wrong deeds,

Wrong deeds misery can feed off,

It feeds off the emotions released from these wrong deeds.

The heart ache, the hurting, the betrayal, the regret.

Misery is the villain,

but not the kind that is easily spotted.

Misery is not the obvious villain in the menacingly black cape.

Misery goes undercover, remember?

Misery is the kind of villain with the heart-wrenching good looks.

Misery is the kind of villain who can be easily mistaken for the hero.