ANCHOR

A Message to Readers: Life is not a bed of roses. There are times when we find ourselves falling down, with no end in sight. We feel pain that cannot be explained and loss that cannot be regained. When you read this poem, think about the person who has been by your side during these times. Think about the individual who, at some point, told you or did something that changed the way you viewed yourself. It could be a stranger, or it could be you, yourself. Perhaps if you truly focus on who your anchor is, who keeps you grounded and continues to help you realise that your life is worth living, the colors will seem brighter and the darkness less haunting. 

Sandpaper fingertips

Trace the outline of

A face forged in memory;

The anchor holding me still.

I close tightly, my eyes shut

Finding myself floating amidst

Sadness, pain and desolation

Whirlpool of a sickly existence.

My soul reaches out to you

In a darkness so consuming

I find myself nearly lost

Nearly, until I see you again.

Storms uprooting my beliefs

And waves of hopelessness

Washing over sandcastle dreams

Tended and restored, by you.

In a world where happiness

Remains a privilege criminal

You taught me to smile freely

And run away from the shadows.

Everytime I gather, devise ways

To fix the cracks in my wall

You hold gently, my hand, and

Say, "Find the ability to appreciate."

Fairytales, deceptively creeping

Showing dreams beyond bounds

With you, the magic is real

Possibilities ahead, endless.

Dear anchor, you have saved me

Time and again, without fail;

Let me, too, rescue you from

The force I call 'me'.