Will I find the dream again? Somewhere in this new realm reeking of reality? I feel like I’m treading on the nothings of my days. Guilty of nothing. Achieving nothing. Feeling everything but nothing. Watching moments pass shamelessly into nothingness. Is that a word? I don’t even write this way. Horizontal thoughts wishing to waterfall once more. At least I’ve kept my not so subtle sense of alliteration throughout the aberration. Alas (what?) my poetic skin is paling, failing. Hmm…internal rhyme intact and that is whacked. Maybe I should slam. These words are not my jam. Who am I?
Sharing with dVerse Poets Pub. It’s Open Link Night! I am your host.
Originally written for PANDEMIC POETRY
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