His Are Mine
I’m not me today the
Images I see staring back
Through my eyes at me
Resemble the man I know
To be the man I am well
Supposed to be but he’s this
Stranger his hands are mine
But I can’t feel the pen as he
Pens these thoughts these words
Aren’t mine they’re his the lips
I use to speak his soul are mine
The voice is still mine these
Suicidal thoughts aren’t his
They’re mine…
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
