Below is the poem entitled Endings I do believe which was written by poet
William J. Jr.
Atfield. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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William J. Jr.
William J. Jr. Atfield
Endings ? – I do believe .
There is this great, growing, emptiness, filling my soul, –
permeating every fiber, every beat ( pounding away at my heart ) –
it’s oppressive weight, bearing down, collapsing my spirit.
There is this gigantic hole, where my life used to be –
an abyss, a black hole from which there is no escaping
the obvious – I no longer ( if ever ) hold a place of any
importance, of any relevance of any meaning.
= My spirit knows the tunes, hears the music.
My soul wants, so much, to dance, to romance. =
A will-o-wisp am I, among the shadows,
cast upon this plane you and I have traversed.
My days, my nights, my hours, my minutes but hollow places.
Thoughts, feelings, visions, memories, all echo throughout these empty spaces.
Once again, you have slipped into your silent mode –
me you try and avoid, once more , to me become cold.
I keep my distance, so as not to anger, to upset you
and will, until you have a change of heart – this I do,
because my love for you will keep me at bay
until what troubles you ?, takes wing and flies away.
Until then – I patiently await the coming of that day.
Until then – I will reluctantly stay out of your way.
Until then – I will look to the heavens and pray
that my thoughts, my feelings, my beliefs will stay
within the realms of possibility and of love
upon white wings of peace – you know ?, the dove
who carries - hope for all the wars – far above
all that seems to be burning down the house of LOVE.
These, my words, my Dear, I fear, you may never hear !
This poor attempt at rhyme – may be a waste of my time !
This spirit no longer flying, believe me !, I am not lying !
These lines, you’d say are “ silly, - isn’t that like you Billy ”
ring in my head, the latest adjective telling me I am dead !
Another negative put down, of this foolish old clown,
and his attempts at expressing, -
the physical, mental, intellectual – his rambling.
B. J. “A” 2
January 10th 2009