Brian Joseph Dickenson
Drifting - Poem by Brian Joseph Dickenson
Drifting through labyrinthine corridors of my mind.
Peering into dark corners,
Afraid of what I'll find.
Searching for a reason for being.
The truth of who and what I am.
Not always liking what I'm seeing.
Of the ghosts who inhabit my private hell.
Scenes from the past, or is it the future?
Who can tell?
My body lives and smiles and jokes.
Is everyone the same,
In appearing just like other folks?
Or are we all but players
In some unknown game?
I want to know rules.
Or is the game us
Just playing fools?
If that is the case
I'm quitting the game.
You can have my space.
Comments about Drifting by Brian Joseph Dickenson
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You