Pieces os Life
Ride on a zephyr
Parts of Life
On a wind
As Occular Sinister
As a left eye can be
Both are the same thing
No matter how it's put
Waves of sorrow
Just begun
The sickness
Of nervous twisting
A tornado swallowed
Swirling inside
No tangible remains
Memories kept in mind only
Everything seems lost
Ingested into the unknown
Hope rides a wave
Of unseen possibility
Undesired freedom
A new life not yet imagined
Is all lost
When true self is found?
the title went so far as to affect the way i read the poem, if that makes any sense. it kind of set the tone, as if a jigsaw had languidly wandered among the verses, weaving a cut in and out of them. and, yes, i am completely sober! Jake
OK, after reading the poem 5,6 times, i get it, it hits the self in a big way., remember, if theres a way in, then theres a way out...good job
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Truth be known the true self changes.