Unworldly Poem by James Darwin Smith II

A ripple of the astral me
Confronted by an enigmatic force
The imagery of another dimension
Hands shaking
Till my arrival
The plateau of certain imagery



Damaged of sorts
Outward, thoughts differ
Alone, but enlightened
Everything will end up being alright
Somehow


Or another
Curved feet
On a flat surface
Walking differently in origin
Reflections to the destiny that be


No one will ever get
What this meaning
Of what this truly is
Upon this personal decree



Domineering pause
The ego tries so hard to take control

Why are things the way that they are?





Truant motions stumbling
Into a clumsy stroll
Down memories shattered remains
As I try to piece everything back together
To investigate self
Upon what method
Design that was given away unto me



What am I?
To a destiny that has expectations
That lives on the brink of a fictitious normalcy?



I have deemed myself, Unworldly



What else is out there?
What else is there to believe?



Voids are the scars that taper
The false narratives
Of what everything
Is supposed to be



Unbeknownst, to the status quo
I will always be "unworthy"



Maybe, somewhere else
That is not a "Disability"



With pride, I confide
To forever always be
Unworldly


Someday I will fly away

I am unworldly