When am I going to accept
my imperfections?
war heroes lived with theirs,
bronzed and cemented were
accepted with memories adorned
why aren't mine?
I'm powerless, please change
my landscape, embalm my
space with kindness and
deflect from irrational
behaviour, addictions from
past to present, a life's confession.
Mine is a pattern of shifting role's
I'd pilot into solitary
wear like a loose blanket
a toolbox of past memories
consume me with a
sly ambiguous smile.
Living A Lie And Not Owning It
In Denial
Published by Family Friend Poems February 22, 2024 with permission of the Author.
Advertisement