Just another shadow on the landscape
Just another poet puking death
Just another moment not to notice
The writing on the wall and in your head
Creeping from the cave of my sick comfort
In the day, I wander fields and plant my feet
Making pretty all the weeds, in chains I join them
Until the nighttime falls, and like a villain, I retreat
In summertime the passers by cast an eye and nodded
As though seeing of a vision that they knew
But by Autumn eyes grew tired of strange inertia
In the field that with the seasons nothing grew
Lingering in my longing and my lonely
I begin again each day with my plight
It may look like I’m indulging with the daisies
But with each new weed I pluck, I lose more of my sight
It matters not my slow demise will go unnoticed
It matters not that only daisies mourn my death
I paint for me and do not expect to hang for viewings
What is mine, is only mine. Here laid to rest.
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Author:
sylviasearcher (
Offline) - Published: July 24th, 2020 02:48
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 30
- Users favorite of this poem: RiverJordan, TWENTY3
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Comments2
youve written one of the best poems i have ever read on this site. It has everything and all covered in a downpour of torrential rain. miserable to the end. Wonderduby!
Thanks I think.., it was a birthday present to myself...
Brilliant writing once again sylvia
Thank you for always being kind 😊
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