New day, new greeting, she
strikes me differently.
On her way, right behind me, she
tramples over all my meetings.
Tireless and pursuant, I
too chase after her.
No longer in hiding,
she comes right away,
My impostor.
Slow and steady,
our footsteps fall in line. A
wild goose chase, running after
a new stage, a new role
for us to mime.
Yet we don't give up, not now,
on each other we feed.
In one there are two,
surely there are more coming,
once freed.
I'll shop for more,
every type's in need,
there's bountiful in store, of
the many impostors I breed.
YOU ARE READING
Nobody's Musings
PoesíaA collection of short stories and writings when I am in the mood for melancholy. There is hope in loss, just look beyond to find a broken soul repairing itself through pen and paper.
