Poem #267

I dug out some of my old work 
and it was like digging out a grave. 
The notebooks and the pages which carry 
my soul and everything I was and believed 
I would be screamed out to me. 

Blowing the dust of this ancient version of my expression 
made me realize I might just have to take  
ten steps back to realize where should I go forward.  

It made me feel so very old. 
All those poems and sketches on the side of the pages 
told me I used to be a kid with a dream 
and it came like a shock to me.  

For a change my work screamed out my name. 
It wasn’t dedicated to any him,  
I wasn’t wasting graphite writing about any them. 
I used to give myself enough importance to write about me. 

I wore out my knees and my joints running away from the past. 
Maybe I need to revisit it to find some answers.  

Latest Poem: Poem #380
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Latest #savingme: Invalidating Trauma
Life updates: I have a creative itch

4 thoughts on “Poem #267

  1. I am a strong believer in that all the answers lie in the past!

  2. I find it inspirational to revisit my “very early” writings– just to see how I’ve evolved in style or genre or mindset. In fact, some of those old works I’m not afraid to utilize in my current age and blogs.

  3. Pingback: Poem #382 – LUNA

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