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.
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