PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I have my own ghosts. They are my constant
companions. Shapes of past mistakes thinly

veiled by my indifference to them. I speak
in studied and calculated messages that I

whip out in aimless patterns of illusions which
become my definition of reality. These shade

me when I encounter clouded doorways that
are covered with vines of blistering intensity.

I do not dig very deeply anymore. When I
was a young boy I covered my fears with

games that created my own universe. I was
master of the world and King of the hill all

at the same time. My destiny seemed to
be flowing in its usual fashion until the gripping

tension of manhood sapped my ambition. I
struggle with myself in terms of lost adventures

which I face with murky drippings of rain drops
that flutter majestically around me. Nothing

reaches me anymore for I have locked the
keys into a safe where I cannot reach them.

I do not travel lightly anymore. When I fall it
is in tragic silence and I encounter only laughter

that flaps from inside my thoughts.I open my
hands and let the dirty images fall to the ground.

I will not pick them up for if I do they may
return and ensnare me in their insistence. I prefer

to echo glasses half full of water even as I
drain the container dry. Indifference is not just

a word anymore, it is a statement of existence.
I do not dig very deeply anymore. Close the

door and let me be. Don't follow the passage
of my eyes. The closed sign is firmly in place

and the darkness welcomes me to its embraces.
I am solitude within and without, happily vague.