Most things about me are natural

Not that anyone would ever know

And without meaning too

I wear darkness like a tailored suit

As if the moon and I were dating

In some but bizarre kind of way

Reminiscent of black and white films

I’m sure I’d have fit in back then

I triage new battle scars with words

My souls blood-drops are my tears           

Time is the only door to understand

What I feel and precisely who I am                  

But not even time is set in stone

At times I’m my best… on my own


Poet of the Light © 2023

Photo by Jeswin Thomas on Pexels.com


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