deepundergroundpoetry.com
Retrospective Realisation
Too long my haze held diagnosis like
some trophy, prize, won in imagined fight.
The scars are real, inflictions haunt my night,
but self, not others, wielded piercing spike.
Construing madness as some well placed strike
I failed to stem my spreading, seeping blight.
My troubled head inverted wrong and right,
then finally found peace with self dislike.
There’s many suffer in so many ways,
these obstacles are there to overcome.
If possible one mitigates the hurt
and each attempt advances and repays,
both those who vocalise, and too the dumb.
Would join your call - if I’d worth as convert.
some trophy, prize, won in imagined fight.
The scars are real, inflictions haunt my night,
but self, not others, wielded piercing spike.
Construing madness as some well placed strike
I failed to stem my spreading, seeping blight.
My troubled head inverted wrong and right,
then finally found peace with self dislike.
There’s many suffer in so many ways,
these obstacles are there to overcome.
If possible one mitigates the hurt
and each attempt advances and repays,
both those who vocalise, and too the dumb.
Would join your call - if I’d worth as convert.
Published 4th Mar 2023
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