Lost

Pram (boat) at Hasslö, Sweden
Image via Wikipedia

 

 

Oft times I delve

Into the deep of my mind,

In search of some sort

Of answers to the

questions  I seek.

 

Swirling around in there

Is a mass of confused chaos–

A redundant oxymoron of

Self as self of me as self.

Is there a self in there?

 

Or am I lost, adrift in

Any which direction the

Currents take me?

 

A dinghy in the middle of

A hurricane–one life–

One insignificant life–lost.

A dinghy in the middle of a

Hurricane is one life lost.

A dinghy lost is a dinghy lost.

 

A dinghy is my self adrift

On the chaos of my mind.

 

~Keep Walking

Advertisements

About ~Drew

I am a survivor of childhood torture. Each day, I put one foot in front of the other, moving forward. To do any less would spell my own destruction. My music/poetry/prose deal with the devastating effect of this kind of abuse on a human being: me. My experiences/thoughts/ideas/misconceptions are exposed here for all to see. Here. I am lain bare, naked, hidden only be the cloak of anonymity.
This entry was posted in depression, poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Lost

  1. Drew says:

    How cool… an hour ago, this poem did not exist in the world… now it is published for the world to read. Blogging is amazing.

What say you?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s