Poem – Is there Grey?
November 3, 2024Poem – Flames
November 3, 2024When I was young . . .
dazed and confused,
made messed up beds,
bad for the head.
Too many rocks in my water
to see clearly.
Couldn't be still.
Wouldn't be still.
I knew all the answers,
no one knew better than I.
Rebellious, no-love kid
who defied gravity.
Pushing onward and upward,
forward to make my mark.
Gonna take the town by storm.
Nobody noticed
and I was destroyed.
Look, here I am. The further I got,
the bigger I was.
An image of projection,
who took away my silver screen?