Apr 27
I ponder how they see Me,
As Plain and awful as I do.
As if I owe this Debt of anonymity,
Because Electronics can't render my hideousness.
A beast of Slime and fang,
Reeking of Coffee, tobacco and sweat.
Lumbering uselessly in muddy Pastures,
Dark storm clouds swallowing my form.
But maybe I could Guess to my future,
A divine creature of Wings and curious eyes.
Not Captured by capitalism or greed,
But with a Reputation for simply being good.
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Poetry For The Lost People
Poetry365 observations and comments about society, life and love throughout 2022. Come with me on my journey day by day, as I write what I've always wanted to say. There is no method or planning, just thoughts and perceptions about the way of the world. A...
