The Awful Truth
An awful truth awoke,
it shook her head.
‘How awful’ she thought.
‘my life is stored away
in a cloud, in digital boxes,
in downloads and uploads
where I float as a head
smiling into my own mind.
When her husband
brought a cup of breakfast tea
she was far away from herself
chasing an unseen applause.
He kept the drapes closed
so that the light would not intrude
then shut the door quietly,
not wanting to disturb
the many images of her
that flickered behind
her darting eyes.
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.
