The Meanwhile ...
While I'm working on me
I leave plenty of space and room for error
While I'm dancing in the street...
I let the on lookers count me out because I'm noone they think I'm going to be
But nothing compares to free .
While I'm working on she ...
There's need for new endeavours
And unlimited possibilities.
And if she is to ever to walk by faith
as you continue until infinity ...
I ain't holding no possessions to never .
.... those idolized things
are like rusty plated trophies
Pretty for the moment
tear away like pleather.
But always lacking true substance.
They won't last FOREVER .
Forever won't let them last .
I'm going to find what's real.
First stop
Train 🚆Destination 1922 The Mirror.
Written By : Author & Poet S.N.P.
👁 6💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.