the every day

is it ok to admit it
is it ok now to make it known
that I'd rather be most any place
than where my feet are sewn
over in some other place, upside
down or in-between,
for the colours of my sight are
blurred and my grass ails sickly
green
is it alright now to whisper loud
that my compass has no point
that the roll of days are clogged
to halt
nothing moves it only sways
but I guess I just won't say it
guess I'll keep it to myself
guess pretence is just the weak
man's way
to slaughter mostly every day
M P 1/7/22
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Comments
Well said Marion and perhaps needed saying a little sujugated inner thought/ frustration rising to the top a little fused anger a cry for help perchance, that has been lanced in its own way.
A catharsis poem but not a full on full monty if that makes sense.
Supressed on one hand and expressed on the other...I think!
Hugs to you Marion and thank you for certainly making the little grey cells flex and stretch.
Shaun. x.
Thanks Shaun x
This is one of those poems that a reader can really "feel." I felt it! I actually wrote a very long comment on it. Too long! Much too long. So long, in fact, that it went miles off course and ended up irrelevant. So, I deleted it. I just want to say, yes — yes it IS okay to admit it. And is understandable that you feel this way. Much love and hugs for you xx
It is very hard to write how we experience things Tina...often if you have been truly blessed in your life and truly knew that you were blessed then you also know the exact moment the blessings were removed and that try as you might you will never ever feel.at home here again. Thankyou lovely lady xx