On my travels I met a man,
So like myself,
Yet so different.
On my travels I met a man,
He was unburdened,
Unbothered by the lack of wealth.
On my travels I met myself.
Or more accurately,
What I had become
I’m a man scared by history
Deformed by trauma.
How the fuck
Did I let it get this bad?
How the fuck
Did I let fear,
Forge my actions?
I abandoned dignity for false friends,
Left the ones I love, to feel unloved,
I hurt the wrong people in my search for joy.
On my travels I met a man
So similar to myself,
Yet so different.
All he wanted was the sun's warm light embrace,
Not cold heavy coins and paper thin money,
I am the worst part of the human race
I’ve lost my way,
Lost my path,
So I travelled,
I travelled far and wide.
But, I was still scared by history
And deformed by trauma.
Then I met this man who helped me remember.
-
Author:
Anonamus (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 11th, 2017 08:10
- Category: Short story
- Views: 57
- User favorite of this poem: marlenawood.
Offline)
Comments2
I love this ....
Just so very good
Thank you so much P H Rose
Beautiful piece love
Thank you very much.
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