Lynn W. Petty
The Shadows Of Thought - Poem by Lynn W. Petty
I stand In the shadows of thought,
Devoid of the art of thinking;
Assembling meaningless words
In rows of senseless creation.
Non-sequiturs written on paper;
Fragments of flowery language
In solecistic bunches.
Visualizing bouquets of wild flowers,
My writings are fields of ragweeds.
Beauty confused with untruths.
I, a poet? I, a poet?
A dream of a consummate youth,
When altruism coursed through my veins;
Blood was the spillage of cause.
Life was the serving of purpose; purpose
The singing of life.
Under the incubus of false hope,
Poetry is fata Morgana,
Radiant in isolated light,
A mirage. The Morgan le Fay
Of my mind.
Comments about The Shadows Of Thought by Lynn W. Petty
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
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye