I sit in mirrorless reflection
watching my life flow past.
Images of days gone
fly right by
and as those imaginings elapse
I’m taken on a floating ghost train ride
to where those thoughts have flown.
I gasp.
If I'd known who I was back then,
if I'd seen how much I was yearning
to be held, to be loved, to be accepted when
I felt like a stranger in my own skin,
would I have become
the man you see when looking at me,
or would I have just carried on
walking uncomfortably.
The reflections look like me.
They speak in my voice,
though much more timidly.
But there is something different
in the way they slouch,
in the way their eyes are pulled down,
as if searching the ground
for some long-lost meaning.
It’s quite revealing to my older eyes.
I was unhappy, I was fearful of life.
I was in a place
that I felt I couldn't get out.
Those warped views
into some world
I thought I once knew
keep on flooding through,
though now
looking through this portal
I realise I was lost so completely.
Like I was at sea
and I'd forgotten to pack my boat.
I was at the end of the tether
of a very straggly rope
My frayed hope
was all but worn away,
just brief spots of sunlight
on a grey tired day.
In my mirrorless reflection
I see salvation. Death called
said you’re not ready to be taken.
Here take this notepad and pen,
you will be needing them,
you have a job to do,
so, you'd better start writing.
Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff
continue to do this.
Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
No comments:
Post a Comment