Self Portrait
Self Portrait
Written: by Tom Wright
March 2015
As whispers invade nocturnal slumber,
Day, through time, births another brush stroke.
Prevailing thoughts become thronged
As we experience the futility,
In retracing steps, of former days;
Life isn’t filled with fables
Bent on telling us the pleasing things;
These timeless echoes to the ear
Remain memories past, and empty yearnings.
Just splotches of paint on a canvas,
Each telling a small part of our life’s story;
Leaving us to resolve what voices we will follow today.
Until death, life remains an incomplete canvas
Often infested with emptiness;
Each life will be a portrait of who we were.
Tom
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