Some days
When the light streams in the window
When the rain pours down
When the snow comes and your fingers are freezing
Thoughts move the air like smoke
Taking half forms and discarding their shells for something new
People are a little like that
They change all the time
But often, even they’re unaware
A man checks into therapy
His name is lost, and he remembers little
His bruises have long since healed, he forgets them too
He smiles at the receptionist, who tells him he’s fine and can go home
He wakes the next day and pours a cup of coffee
The steam reminds him of a dream
He is awake
He is alive
He may be alone
But he drinks contentedly
What did you think
Comments
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You know Dave, I actually love this poem.
Good Job man.
(I don't have enough points to applaud, but I'd give you 3)
-Ian
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nice little story.
the flow could be a little better.
but for this write it's not a big deal.
good job.
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Very thought provoking. Great flaw.
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