01-02-2023, 11:28 PM
Hey Bunx- long time, no see. Good to have you back. Some comments below:
Compromise is the condition, maybe 'medicine' instead
Prescribed over time.
Some mornings I see my reflection
knowing part my identity died. of my identity ??
I morn my old symmetry, mourn
as well as my old smile.
I miss the way I saw mountains,
a big backyard for endless miles.
Half of me recall these memories. recalls
Fearless feelings where I was in control.
Secured in sceneries that inspired
endless ideas made me whole.
Until I went too far.
Lost a trail made for one.
False signs, ghosts, illusions appeared.
Until all illusions had gone.
Lessons learned
from that surreal landscape.
Made half of me afraid
Never wanting to wander.
as if a moving shell.
Disillusionment drained me,
Isolating skepticism restrained.
My original indenity buried
Under the concrete rubble of fear. very cool
A year went by, ghosts at bay.
Lovers approached, seasons changed.
Eventually my former half blossomed
As if one seed in the debis.
I can't help but think of those flowers,
without significance.
I can't help but realize there is love within
perseverance.
Interesting self reflection at this time of self reflection (the new year). As always, I suggest finding ways to make this one more compact, but maybe that will have to wait for the next new year...
...Mark
Compromise is the condition, maybe 'medicine' instead
Prescribed over time.
Some mornings I see my reflection
knowing part my identity died. of my identity ??
I morn my old symmetry, mourn
as well as my old smile.
I miss the way I saw mountains,
a big backyard for endless miles.
Half of me recall these memories. recalls
Fearless feelings where I was in control.
Secured in sceneries that inspired
endless ideas made me whole.
Until I went too far.
Lost a trail made for one.
False signs, ghosts, illusions appeared.
Until all illusions had gone.
Lessons learned
from that surreal landscape.
Made half of me afraid
Never wanting to wander.
as if a moving shell.
Disillusionment drained me,
Isolating skepticism restrained.
My original indenity buried
Under the concrete rubble of fear. very cool
A year went by, ghosts at bay.
Lovers approached, seasons changed.
Eventually my former half blossomed
As if one seed in the debis.
I can't help but think of those flowers,
without significance.
I can't help but realize there is love within
perseverance.
Interesting self reflection at this time of self reflection (the new year). As always, I suggest finding ways to make this one more compact, but maybe that will have to wait for the next new year...
...Mark