Life Sometimes
Life sometimes
Has been nothing more than raging streams
cascading over the sharp edges of rocky dreams.
Surging down sculptured mountain sides so steep
where dreams splinter, reflected in troubled sleep.
Remnants of, go beyond recognition, no longer to keep
within the subconscious confines of one’s memory hoard,
yet, once filed, the virtuous, the debauched become stored
forever more, upon one’s synaptic cleft, to become scored.
It seems that much of my stuff is habitually subjective.
Seldom has it been that they are of the stuff that is objective.
My thoughts, my feelings, my words are mostly selective.
They all come from past memories that are reflective.
B. J. “A ” 2
November 27th 2018
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.
