Looking in

I have come to realise that I cannot escape the past

A hue of colours lost in the shadows

A sense of a spirit beyond embrace

But what of it, what does it matter

It matters because I am a prisoner of that time

And naked thoughts suspended in the abyss

Cannot journey to a final destination

Too many stages of my life just echoes

Trying to reunite with memories that lost their way

Sitting here on the crest of a hill the view is unspoiled

But the walk through the endless days of detail

Obscures any meaning to life

I should spend more time with myself

But I am trapped in an infinite loop of thoughts

I wish I could observe the person I am

From the crest of that hill

Just as I look upon others

Then maybe I could help

But the person within is amorphous

Always shifting never still

An opaque soul in an opaque world

Therefore I cannot see myself

Therefore I have no empathy for myself

Therefore I cannot help.


© Rik - 14/03/2009



Poetry by Rik The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 682 times
Written on 2009-03-14 at 21:15

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I love this rik but have you ever thought that when we write poetry and read it one the page, we are in deed looking in? I do know what you mean, a bit like astral travellers who see themselves laid out and can observe our outer features. Meditation is one way of slowing the loop, like tai chi allows my mind to become still as I travel through the form, it takes practice but it always clears my mind and when that happens I am enlightened by the real issues in my life. Smiling at you, TAi
2009-03-15