Friday, February 10, 2012

Stolen Peace

Familiar features flicker past the peripheral of my eye
Like inkblots fitting the pattern of an ever elusive face
Muddled memories shepherd me among the strangers at my side
My heart ripping past my chest, urging body to make haste

Trudging through motley crowds, thick like quicksand
Foolishly trying to grasp the veil that shields truth in secrecy
Uncertainty billows up like smoke suffocating me where I stand
Uncovering this puzzle piece promises to set my mind free

Dancing between the masses in a game of hide ‘n’ seek
A zigzagging silhouette my target in this chase
No matter how close I get he’s still too far to reach
My thirst grows more intense as I struggle to keep pace

Darting down subway stairs to platform edge on tippy toes
Peering into packed steel pens for my thief to turn his cheek
Hands reach out, grabbing fistfuls of air as train doors bite closed
Left to forever chase that phantom down dark tunnels in my sleep.



Mom said...

Hope this didn't happen to you! Take care in the big city my love!


This is a bit different folly.

Poets are philosophers, and surely you are (or you'll become). Living in a city, outside of your root, is a different feeling, freedom flees soon and suffocation grasp the throat, but somehow it's good that we learn a lot among frenzy crowd.