I can only feel this cold sensation brush against my feet
The warmth crispen my fingertips
As you walk on by
The aromas that I smell around this environment
My sight
Indescribable
I feel enable
Lesser
Wasted
A reject
A project gone wrong
What are you?
What can you bring?
What can I do?
My hands clasp sharply around my cane
Guiding me
Through this treacle
Do people laugh at me?
Look at me?
Point
Examine
Judge
I wouldn't blame if they did - I would do the same - If I was in their shoes
I am parade of failure
And nothing more
Incomprehensible
It fathoms the mind
Can't translate
Look through me
Can you see me
I am even here
Do I even exist to you
I wonder
Categories:
crispen, depression,
Form: Free verse
The crispen lips of autumn
when pumpkin leaflets fill the air
and sing-ed wood is smoking bare is freedom.
It's the crackle 'neath your bundled feet
and scarves tied loose and apple pinched cheeks
and majesty you'll never reach from a window.
It's linking arms with your closest friend
and letting the warming sun pretend it's working.
It's chipmunks still and frozen there
beneath the tree, nuts everywhere
a glint in their eyes and they're back in their lair
cheeks popped full of magic.
This kiss is the glory of your love's embrace
lying there you're face to face 'till slumber
'Till the big goodnight, 'till the bright snow light,
"till winter...
Categories:
crispen, life, love, nature, seasons,
Form: I do not know?