What do we try to find?
Looking at each other’s truths,
Prying into others’ memories,
Reading into the lies and cheats,
Figuring out who’s wrong… for Us.
Who is wrighting truth—for them.
We’re all little ants,
Just swarming about,
Trying to make sense of the madness.
Instinctual habits,
Live like love.
Roses welt in the breath of night,
Sheepishly lying in her ballroom gown.
Siamese dreams share reality,
As we hope to find in the words of each other.
Farewell Stars.
Goodbye Dreamers.
Arigato, my friends.
Let’s sit down together
And get to know each other a little more.
Love me or hate me,
We’re all made special
To fit into squares
And find a path.
Well, I hope.
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Comments3
A poem of relationships and striving to make things work. Nicely done
A sense of trying very hard to make a relationship work and asking for a bit more understanding, nicely expressed and written
Your poem reads like a wandering hand brushing through a crowd — catching fragments of truth, deception, connection, and the quiet hope that conversation might stitch meaning into the noise. It also declares salvation isn’t a single revelation — it’s the act of looking, prying, sharing, hoping. The “path” at the end feels tentative, not yet paved, but still worth seeking. There’s a sense that poetry isn’t a final answer so much as a lantern we pass between us in the dark. The Author's note appears to be a key: saying, 'Despite all the mess we just traced through, you matter to me.' It doesn’t erase the questions but coexists with them, like a lantern held up in the fog. In a way, it’s the poem’s last line without being in the poem at all, the aftertaste that lingers and quietly answers: 'if there’s any salvation here, it’s connection.'
Well Kinda what I thought, but sir you painted it beautifully. Thanks
Most welcome and we'll try for better than "kinda" next time 🤩👍
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