When.. Poem by Ryan Fitch
When..
When the only comfort is the thought of the past.
When the night is the disguise, and days begin to blend
The knowledge of the future is within reach, but you fall,
You know the reasons, but fail to draw them to end.
An hour is no time to prepare; yet minutes are still too long
Slowing killing all within is the highlight of every morn.
As the cloud of grey is now the scent of my identity,
Will I shake what I've become, or succumb to the inevitable thorn.
The existence of the unknown ignites but extinguishes.
Every inconsistency causes the rattle, yet you want it to break.
The clutter can be overcome with a single thought,
But it continues to stay. There it will lie, even when I awake.
My heart aches constantly, for I know that I can change.
Change the way that limits me at every single turn.
Tomorrow is the company and the safety net.
But today was tomorrow, and I have done nothing yet.
i'm sure i don't understand all that you meant to say, but for some reason your wording (at least some of it, like: As the cloud of grey is now the scent of my identity,) caused me to enjoy reading this. is the speaker (not you of course!) a total loser or 'just' a procrastinator? ? thanks for sharing.
The last two lines completed the wisdom thought in your poetry! great_Soul
A poem on human lethargy unquenchable nice one keep it up
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 9:07:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I think the speaker is the writer, and the point is not being a 'total loser', but attachment to some dull job that provides security at a price. Not easy to walk away in a world where economic security is increasingly a rarity. So we get stuck. Of course there's more to it, I don't think i completely understand this, there may also be underlying depression. I rate it very good in a contest of low standard.