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by Brendon Tawanda Takarinda, September 24, 2018

The very existence of my being lays dormant
as I look at my present through my past. I
visualize the images of my past failures
in my mind.

With every fiber of my being, I ache and long
for the truth I so dearly deserve. My reflection
seen through a thousand shattered pieces of a mirror
which represents myself pity. I stand before myself in
awe, nothing but the truth and my nudity to remind me
that I am a man with no secrets to bear.
I raise my past as if were my own child.

Young, blissful, amusing and disgusting.

Written: September 2018
Tags: Disappointment Past

The © Copyright to this poem is owned by the author.
Published by writerslounge.net on September 24, 2018 under courtesy of the author.

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