Enduring Psychic Wounds Poem by Uriah Hamilton

To amble through a desolate city
Of dilapidated houses and dispirited streets
In search of jubilant flowers
And the song of gurgling fountains!

My heart is stung
By the absurdity of the odds
Of ever finding any positive resolution
To insistent desires
As I attempt to recall
An exultant dream.

For too long
I’ve had a melancholy face
Too distressing for strangers
To gaze upon,
Too sad for a room with mirrors.

I’ve been haunted in vain
By ghosts of previous lives
Trying to guide me into the light,
But I’m only capable of perceptions
Of myths and fabrications.

The cycle of sorrow only relents
In insignificant increments
For the mind to slightly heal
From enduring psychic wounds.