today's the day.
the day they said
that the pain would go away.

where the grey skies turn blue,
and the flowers finally bloom.
a fresh beginning,
a chance to start anew.

do i tell them that it's still here?

that happiness eludes me,
and my conscience will never be clear.
the river of peace,
suddenly running dry when i am near.

in the end it's my fault.
for believing that pleasure―
a cruel delight,
could ever come into my life.

so instead i mourn,
for the endless possibilities.
the 'what ifs' and 'could be's'
and wait once more for the day,
where the pain will go away.