MEANDERING THOUGHTS

It was a cold crisp sort of day,
To be taken like a pinch of salt.
Barrels of happiness came my way,
Arm in arm swaying dismally to some ditty.
The girls were I guess passable and pretty,
The boys were drunk and brutish.

I've never been good at sharing thoughts.
With another anonymous person in the street,
Just in case it wasn't someone you'd
Wish you didn't meet.

Poetry was different it didn't judge me,
There was a sort of shority in each word.
Each one is a passage through time,
For someone who wrote every line.

Who slowly unequivocally is losing
His mind, one brain cell at a time.
Yet briefly I was sharing in their
profallity, From a distance.

A shadow of my former self,
Observing them, observing me.
A dodgery old fool,
lost in a world of poetry.



Poetry by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 64 times
Written on 2023-10-30 at 00:28

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Sameen
I enjoyed the uneven cadence of this poem. The rhythm is choppy, but in a way that reproduces, or rather reflects, the message being said.

You are a good poet, my man.
2023-10-30


Uncle Meridian The PoetBay support member heart!
Affecting. And the cadence is sure. Thank you for sharing this poem.
2023-10-30