Revised

art, creative writing, Desire, emotions, errant thoughts, literature, memories, Narcissism, Objectified, pensive, poetry, poets, self-reflection, sensual, short stories, Theology, Uncategorized 1 Minute

I’ve been altered and forever changed  

I’ve lost something of my innate nature

As if I’ve missed a window or mystic portal

But at other times I feel somewhat soulless

A shadow of a shadow if that makes any sense  

I’ve become an aberration to my own peculiarity

Even strangers glance at me very differently

Much like my growing estranged family

As if I’m more palatable out of their presence    

While they regurgitate changing gossip of a past         

I’ve known them and their stories for too long

And they have yet to see who I always was        

I honestly fear- I’m becoming more like them

As I keenly look in my mirror… at all that’s left

.

Poet of the Light © 2023

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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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9 thoughts on “Revised”

      2. “Missed”, was about missing my mother for Mothers Day only to have her remind me she is still here in the gentle touch of a breeze. You being a mother would relate well to that, I’m sure. Most have no idea what that poem was really about because they lack or refuse to allow themselves to be vulnerable enough to be drawn into the poems truth.

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