He   2 comments

He ran plays in a mind
still insecure
He wore with grace
the less generous
thoughts of others,
yet not by hand
Heart breaks
The years had passed
but even now
he felt still haunted
He cried
when memories
searched for reason
He saw within his life
an absence,
a need
He had tripped
no light fantastic
The beautiful times
had belonged to the
beautiful people
He was not one of them
Life deals a hand to all
He knew
He accepted
He …
he …
He wakes and drives
himself to drudgery
He will be


Posted 19/11/2012 by DarKarsean in Musing, poem, poetry, Uncategorized

2 responses to “He

Subscribe to comments with RSS.

  1. We are all on the edge…I loath the thought of drudgery. But sometimes, that is all there is. Dealing with it is probably what inspires us to write. Another well-expressed and quirky verse.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: