When the Light Leaves Me
Many times I’ve been around the world
resided in wondrous melic lands,
seen the beauty of diverse faces
muse at issues penned from poetic hands.
Yet! It was if written ironically
payment indeed for the good time,
a sentence one of sensitivity
an impediment in its prime.
A foreboding an inner fear
one immersed in utter confusion,
as the greyness festers within
drives one into self seclusion.
As I reminisce here behind this screen
that I once was a mighty mighty man,
although a shadow afraid of the dark
from here the poets that I love I scan.
So the creeping darkness draws forth
like clouds that mischievously roll in,
one is shackled to the proverbial
Oh God! Reliant upon one’s kin.
Alas as life becomes a faded love affair
and silhouettes haunt a torture soul,
I wince here with in my shyness
now a human being no longer whole!
© Harry J Horsman 2012
Copyright © Harry Horsman | Year Posted 2012
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