deepundergroundpoetry.com

I was not the Imposter

Refractured, aye, how broken I am in the shards in their eyes
I see what I know is nothing and all they know is everything
I stand naked in the silhouette of my envy, of my heroes

My sodden soles, so far from their footpaths of grandiosity
E'nif their grapes and cheese are props... communion, their play
I would die for the script so to sit at the table amidst my foes

In the glass of their mansions, I see my refractured fiend
Though their doors swing open,  I flee to my dismal dwelling
Even through tears, I cry and my ghoul echoes back my woes

Premonition smoke from my piece, will my worries know no peace?
Click-clack. stop. A whisper: "My friend, can you not see the sun?

Shards are a piece of the whole; you are in their eyes.
The sod is from the path, and so you are close.

Hear your tears become a mighty battlecry!"
Written by Josiah
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1 reading list entries 0
comments 1 reads 157
Commenting Preference: 
The author is looking for friendly feedback.

Latest Forum Discussions
POETRY
Today 1:31pm by Grace
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:16pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:08pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 2:02am by SweetKittyCat5
COMPETITIONS
Yesterday 8:34pm by Rew