What is that over there staring at me?

Is it an object, a thing, a person maybe?

Do I stare, do I watch as the figure goes by?

If I look it in the eye I just might cry.

You see, I have an idea of what that thing is over there.

It’s a figure that hides behind well-groomed hair.

It’s an object with a knee jerk laugh to cover the pain,

It’s a pair of windshield wipers to move all the rain.

Like those blades that can only move left, then right,

It’s trapped in complacency even though it wants to escape and take flight

I know, you figured out what that thing is with a little wit.

It’s me, it’s me. Yes. You guessed it.

As I stare at it harder, in the eyes this time,

I realize it’s time to end this rhyme.

The longer I look, the more uncomfortable I feel,

The longer I look, I want a new life to steal.

Instead of more thoughts and feelings and words,

I need to find myself and stop feeling like a sack of turds.

This poem has come to an end I am concluding,

These words didn’t help, if anything they’re  convoluting.



Song of the Day: Arcadia – The Kite String Tangle

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