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Translucently Inherent
Vanilla victories over inner wars,
Sisyphean speeches to oneself.
Tarnished trophies shoved in drawers,
endless errands placed on the shelf.
Purposeless projects of predication,
purport prisms of pellucidity.
Fathoms of frailty, falter the foundation;
left with inconsolable invisibility.
You don't see me....
you don't see me....
walking through life like a ghost.
You won't see me....
you won't see me....
alone is how I like it most.
Languishing lies, laughingly polluting,
crowing at my own incompetency.
Draining desperation, directly diluting
concentration and all confidency.
You don't see me....
you don't see me....
I'm here but I'm transparent.
You won't see me....
no, you won't see me....
translucently inherent.
BLT
Copyright ©
Bill Turnbull
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