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About This Poem
Weathered
As a flag, left to the ravages of wind and sun,
so too my soul, stands tattered and ravaged.
My visage now a faded memory
of once courageous colors.
My voice no longer crisp, nor upbeat.
But weak and undefined.
No longer do I instill nor evoke,
a sense of power or purpose.
I am easily dismissed as useless, unnecessary.
Yes, once I was the strong flag,
that laughed in the wind with a quick
snap and whip crack determination.
That was years and many storms ago.
Now, I give into the wind,
with a defeated wave
and the sound of a sigh.
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