the ugly writers

It Won’t End Here

And this is not where it ends, there is more. This life is mine to suffer, this is mine, this way alone. I don't know what my old soul has to learn from it. I don't know what my old soul did.

It Won’t End Here is a poem written and shared by Kevin Rein to The Ugly Writers for the month of March 2020.

 

It Won’t End Here

 

It’s not over yet, it is not.

Everything that is happening right now is just the beginning.

It won’t end soon, not yet.

So get those tissue rolls enough, make sure the pillows are dry.

No one should hear me cry.

No one should see me getting drowned.

I should not make a sound,

For this life of unending pain and broken pride is not getting fine, it is getting worse.

And my scars will be scars cut to be scarred anew.

My pains would be a mountain of pains,

And it isn’t getting better, not today, not anytime later.

I was born to master my internal monologues.

I was born to smile from my stitches and burns.

I was born to embrace every sprout of hope and watch them wither while I cry.

I was born to face the morning with a heart as heavy as thunderclouds,

And this is not where it ends, there is more.

This life is mine to suffer, this is mine, this way alone.

I don’t know what my old soul has to learn from it.

I don’t know what my old soul did.

If this is punishment then be it,

And in another life, if there is another chance,

I would love to know the answer.

I wish there would be an answer.

Kevin Rein
Kevin Rein
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