A hope to see you in the future passed,
in the past you were never present.
A name on the tip of a tongue.
A father caught in traffic, who never made the party.
A mongrel fighting a lion,
whose only reason for living was the one for which he was dying.
Were you here yet changed so much ?
Maybe you'll never be recognised; a caterpillar-butterflied.
But I tried...
...and I tried and I tried and I tried and I tried.
Every season fallow, exhausted, exacted.
Have I retracted or is there time for one last sweep?
Am I the janitor never paid,
always more dust to collect, to heap?
My bristles are worn and can no longer reach into your corners.
A spider, relentlessly scaling an unclimbable bath.
a forward moonwalk that will only end in withered legs,
and blistered feet, then nothing.
Life may throw you a paper ladder,
but too often life is wish washed away
with the scum, the debris of a bad bad day.
mistaken, unrecognised, potential is lost.
If potential is there it comes with a cost.
a surety that exists only like beauty,
in a beholders eye,
in an older sky,
an older I.
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Author:
Yorke (
Offline) - Published: November 24th, 2015 02:48
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 49
- Users favorite of this poem: melisa alpizar, smilersam
Offline)
Comments2
beautiful!
Thank you for reading and replying, thank you very much for such a kind remark.
Omg I have no words for what what I just read ur amazing
my mouth is open wide lol
Thank you for such a wonderful reply, I really appreciate your kind words . 🙂
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