Grey Poem by Deborah Harvey
Grey
It seems
as if...
we are always
living in the fog.
Inhabitants
of the mist.
Subsisting
on a diet of
vagaries.
Two shadows
who obliquely
recognize
each other's
silhouette.
We see...
the amorphous mass
of generic
humanity,
but are
unable
to grasp
the essential
specifics.
Steeping in our
grey existence...
and all the while,
waiting for
the sun.
And some never see that sun either choosing instead to stay living in the grey mist of the shadows. I see it everyday in young and old alike. People these days are molting from being people to being nothing you can even touch. This is a very deep and well thought out poem that leaves the reader thinking about our own existence. A 10+++++. Love & hugs, Barbara
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 12:51:11 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I love this poem Deborah!