Nebulous

I am s  h a    p e  l  e      s  s

Mirrors can’t show,

               Photos can’t show,

                              Awards can’t show,

Me, nor my inner dialogue.

Because I am s    h    a pe   l e ss

Twisting, tangling, toppling

               Over me and me, and you and me

                              These thoughts in the air between us

That s ha p  e le s      s place

In the space

we’re told is imagination

In the space – yes that place

               where I can be,

                                             could be,

                              will be,

                                             as powerful as I need to overcome myself and this matrix of life.

Because on the outside I’m not shapeless.

Mirrors show my round body.

Photos show my symmetry.

Awards show my high achievements.

Out here I’m composed neatly.

                                             Meticulously.

                                             With firm mortar and brick.

So you don’t get to see my anxiety and

the twisting,

            toppling,

                        tangling thoughts

that compel me to live by powerful words.

Of compassion,

            Of empathy,

                        Of enthusiasm,  

            Of inquisition,

Of resilience.

S h a   p   e l      e   s     s ideas in a rigid world.

 

 

 

Like me.

               

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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