Smell the salty ocean. Smell that?
Feel the early autumn breeze. Feel that?
See the cherry blossoms run through the wind. See that?
Taste the sweet cherry ice cream. Taste that?
Hear the waves crashing against your feet. Hear that?
The sand between your toes,
Camera in hand,
The chilly air tickling your nose,
Embracing the moment.
Are you sure it’s not just Déjà vu?
Not just the moment where your heartbeat stops?
Wishing for your dream of peace, true,
The moment you wake up in a cold sweat?
Is it something you can reach out and touch?
It’s no longer a reality anymore.
You’re feeling fear and stress.
Your own demons come creeping out the door.
And before you know it,
You’re gone and dead.
Do you see a rose now?
It may seem like the beauty of life,
But the thorns are hidden.
Now blood streams down from your fingertip,
And you feel the God given anxious bliss.
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Author:
scarlet poet (
Offline) - Published: April 3rd, 2020 02:54
- Comment from author about the poem: sometimes we don't know what we're feeling and that's alright, as long as we don't let it get to us
- Category: Sad
- Views: 22
Offline)
Comments1
Sometimes simple is effective, striking, memorable... like your first stanza. Repetition, variation on a theme, those insistent questions pulling us in. A provocative twist on the carpe diem theme... I could feel that thorn, taste the blood on my finger. Not as poetic an observation as yours, perhaps, but I recall pointing out to my childhood friends when they were bitten by a hornet or stepped on a thorn that they were blessed to be able to feel pain, and they should embrace the circumstances. Of course they thought I was daft!
Beautifully said! Thank you for your input!
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