I May Not Be

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I May Not Be

~

I may not be a gardener for I have not a garden

but a lot sometimes arid with a shortage of rain

and no flowers to bloom in the spring of my life

but the dry crawling weeds of the leftover pain.

~

I may not be a healer if my wounds remain open

don’t know how to appease my own restless soul

while I count all my years with the passing of days

letting memories haunt me as I get lone and old.

~

I may not be a lover when I’m missing such love

that in wishes is drowning in a glass of red wine

and in verses my dreams I can hide within words

with nobody to claim me or no one to call mine.

~

I may not be a poet when I’m lacking the prowess

transforming emotions if the muse sometimes call

and when try to remember all the things that I was

I could sadly consider I may be none at all-

H.O

“We’re all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that’s all.”
― John Hughes, The Breakfast Club

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2 thoughts on “I May Not Be

  1. Imelda says:

    Beautiful piece.

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