If Only There Was A Title To Match My Thoughts Poem by Not Long Left
If Only There Was A Title To Match My Thoughts
He broke the day
when he opened
the curtains,
light lit up position.
We enter, blindfolded
dependent and wanting
we grow but not
much changes.
The pot noodle pyramid
stands with unwanted pride
upon the finger stained
window sill.
Next door lives a kind old
man he fought in a war
he offers nothing but means
everything he shames those
that dare not admit.
There are lights in a dark room
music is seeping from walls
he does not like it,
yet it reminds him of reality.
He searches for a question
to presesnt to the invisible panel.
Some names are more romantic
than others.
He wants to eat yet that does
not reflect his mindset position.
She shimmers, cause that is
easy to imagine.
There is nothing to read,
yet everything to write,
words destroy, distract
comfort and control.
There is no blind man here
I have no more words
I am losing myself to thought
beyond the way of the word
He survives on an audience
yet imagines a hermit on a hill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 7:52:51 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
I like this a lot. I printed it off so as to read elsewhere instead of in front of the screen. The language is very delicate in places and jerks into - not quite courseness. No one says that poems have to flow and no one says that things should be made easy for the reader. I think that is what I like about this piece.