Peasantries Against Pleasantries
I'm Slowly Making My Way Back
I have not been here to write for a little while now, and when I write, this introduction part is usually an explanation to my own grasp of my written words. I don't want to do that this time.
An interpretation is what I want the readers to grab here. Their own thoughts and emotions that flow while they read these poetic passages. I know what they mean for me, but how will they make you, the reader, feel?
Sometimes, we struggle in life. I cannot imagine anyone who has not. And so, this is why I haven't tried to write or read here lately. I apologize for that, because I am still not fully ready to read a lot today. I barely found my voice with my own piece here. I really typed it with a lot of angst. However, maybe it is the first step to feeling like expressing more. I hope all will be patient with me. Thank you.
And so it was...
It has not ever mattered that I am not the worst…it has only mattered that
I was never your best.
The scars that I wear burn in your eyes. They make me feel damaged.
They itch, and I despise.
Grabbing and wailing I tear at my flesh…if only I was new again
a real resurrect.
It is now my curse as I stare at my face…this struggle to live and
keep you amazed.
I don’t want to lose my pull of desire…yet; I'm aware of my own
lost staying power.
And so it is...
Sometimes, I find myself in a field of wildflower scents…
where there is always descend and some renewed ascends.
I try to imagine a life of theirs short…a death of environment creating
Oh…as I crumble into the Wildflower field…I wish the young daisies
would swallow this self-doubt.
Then allow me to regrow my poise and stout. Regretfully, we humans
are not of this fate…
It’s a silly dream, that only helps me live within my own terrible
Rising back to a dismal view of a life of lonely and irrelevant
I will sleep with an enemy forever present…the enemy of earth
whom I shall relinquish myself its PEASANT.
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© 2017 Missy Smith