Uncertain Footsteps

Unpublished pieces

Alone: strands of hope casually tossed in 
uncertain direction throughout my hair. 
There are many ways open to me 
yet I am uncertain which one to take. 
So I sit here wasting precious time
with a growing sense of perception.
Alone: doom promised if I do not 
take upon myself a path to live. 


How can I sadden myself any further? 
How can I grow when the soil is so poor? 

Lonely faces pressed helplessly against the window 
looking in at me and hoping that I can somehow 
either join them or defeat the demons that trample 
their hopes into the ground. But I am one man 
and as such I am barely able to trample my own 
devil who prances gleefully inside my mind turning 
my thoughts into dank pools of stagnant water. 
Thoughtfully I consider the streams of awareness 
that have presented themselves to me and wonder 
why the drops of rain keep falling even after the 
rainclouds have gone away. This must be the peak 
of the sliding rocks that cascade roughly down 
upon my thoughts; for I only see the photographs 
of tear stained faces which I assume were caused 
by me. It is lonely in this hemisphere where I am. 


How can I reach the trees the of surrender? 
How can I accept the patterns of release? 

I am what I am. I can be nothing more than what 
I hold inside of me; letting the thin and gnarled 
hands of fate to stroke me softly through my 
clothes. I will proceed to whatever is to happen 
and so off I go, alone, 
and ready to grasp at 
the empty shallow eyes 
that mock me as I fall. 

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jimtwocrows's picture

This is a great poem!  " I

This is a great poem!  " I can be nothing more than what I hold inside me ",  I will remember it.