Morsels  

acceptance, art, awakening, creative writing, depression, emotions, heartstrings, literature, loneliness, loss of a loved one, love, missing someone, philosophy, poetry, poets, saying goodbye, self-discovery, self-reflection, sensual, short stories, Uncategorized 1 Minute

Today has had a souring taste

The unexpected lingering type

You adapt to but never leaves

And its overcast weighs heavy

I’m distracted by a distraction

Staring out yesterday’s portal

If only we preserved good days

To replace the days like today

My heart cries in a near silence

Knowing I can’t dial time back

For another palatable serving

There are no returns, no refunds  

Not all slices of life are equals

And not all slices get…  finished  

.     

Poet of the Light © 2021

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Published by Poet of the Light

I'm the aberrational poet your English teacher warned you not to read or follow into the literary abyss. If you steal my poetry...I will find you in between fogyish metaphoric lines. I'll be armed with my quill and papyrus where at will I can wield my power as a writer to erase you from my realm. I will smudge you with inky darkness and do unprintable things like a ghost in imaginary darkness. In full disclosure, I am absurdly mad and take no responsibility for my actions if crossed poetically. But, otherwise, I’m a simple free spirited poetic writer wordsmithing outside the grammatical lines and rules. An easy going romantic rebel at heart. I write meaningful (to me) poetry from my heart and share it here. I tend to approach everyone as a friend until they demonstrate something different. I enjoy having creative exchanges with others, like-minded artists, or writers. Thank you for reading, commenting and your visit. I appreciate all the feedback (good or bad) you care to offer. Feel free to reach out by email for private exchanges if you wish.

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12 thoughts on “Morsels  ”

  4. Cher’s “If I Could Turn Back Time” began playing in my head as I read this. Lord knows, we who have a lot of years behind us, have wished many times for a do-over. So many things are, as you wrote, left unfinished, and we drag them upon our backs to our graves, the weight growing heavier as the years pass.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

      1. Sadly, that is true. When I was much, much younger, I lost a nephew—who was more like a little brother—to cancer that was only six years my junior. His life had barely began…and then he was gone.

        Liked by 1 person

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