The doorway in my mind is a metaphor
The doorway in my mind is a metaphor
The doorway in my mind is a metaphor
The long street that winds, and vanishes
Into the mist, a question still unanswered
From childhood—or
Poetry
You Can’t Force It
You Can’t Force It
You can’t force it, you can’t cause it
You can’t make it happen just because you want it
You can’t shape it out of
Stolen, forsaken
Stolen, forsaken
Moments created in time
Seconds turn to hours
Every Morning
Every Morning
Wading through complexity, noises a cacophony
Voices vie for supremacy, inner children, DJs at quiztime
A diabolical party, leaving you no time to think
If even thinking would help.
Helpless, floating
Keep It Short
Keep it short, they said.
So I did.
20 December 2021