Sunday 17 February 2013

Tears...of a convivial man


Below is a short poem I wrote last night.   It reflects my struggle in adjusting to life here in London after being away so long. A reflection of my homecoming.

What is "home"?   

Presently, home is a house, like all others. A structured shelter, devoid of meaning and soul unless those I love most enter and dwell within.

And that...is not happening.

***

Tears

Tears flow gently
warm against my skin
sudden and intensely
tears from deep within

Tears flow gently
as messengers of doom
proclaiming intently
my self-imposed gloom

Tears are still flowing
Details are washed away
but memories remain sowing
tears for another day

***

And as each day passes, the more I question the wisdom of my decision. 

:(

2 comments:

  1. They say life is a marathon and not a sprint...so hopefully things become clearer with time.

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    Replies
    1. I believe it will - it always does. I am an optimist by nature although it may not see at times :)

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