Glass Ceiling

Glass Ceiling


Crouched here in the corner of the ceiling
watching myself – fighting to endure –
I stifle tears, for I am but his essence
growing dimmer as his color pales.

He struggles to make sense of life – in death.
Whereas I struggled to make sense of death – in life.
I watched him weep at the passing of others
who would not find time for him.

I tried to touch him, to reach him,
to let him know that we were not alone,
that we had each other.  I think he felt it – once-
then pulled away with a shiver.

He – We – were so much more than memory,
so much more than tissue, and sinew, and pain.
We Were, dammit!  Even now, as he struggles
to decide our fate we still – Are.

None but me have know the all of him,
his deepest fear, the enormity of his love,
his loneliness amid the crowds,
his presence among the lonely.

I have always been there for him – in spirit,
had his back, echoed his spiritual song,
directed his eyes toward the sunrise
of a troubling night’s trepidation.

We were the best of what we are
so I am saddened.  Not by his imminent death,
but by the inevitable separation of
the animator from the animation.


10/12/2016

submitted to – Personification – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Lewis Raynes
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Nusker Avatar
October 17, 2016 at 11:21 PM
Very well written poem. You have put quite a deep thought into it. Good luck for the contest, John.
Manassian Avatar
October 14, 2016 at 2:16 AM
That is so deep, John. The animator from the animation. I wish I could pick your brain to know what inspired you to write this personification piece. Profound. Good luck in the contest. :)
Lawless Avatar
October 14, 2016 at 4:17 PM
Eileen, three people went in to pick my brain several years ago....they have not been heard from since. Sometimes my mind is like a dark street, on a rainy night, before the streetlights come on.
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