I am...

I am a piece of dust
covering an old,tremendously forgotten building
and as the wind blows inside of me
I can feel all my sorrows wiped away
and the ray of lights calmly blinding me---

I am a beggar
with my clothes all torn
resting in a corner, next to the soft snow
and my exhausted,tortured hand
is being rejuvenated when a coin
flips right on my palm---

I am a street musician
singing old rock'n'roll songs
all I have is my accoustic guitar
and a lot of memories buried in the right side of my hat
people do not seem to acknowledge my existence
but I will sing till my voice falls down dead---

I am an old vinyl record
buried beneath a lot of clothes and a gramophone
old are the clothes,antique the gramophone
we are resting there,sometimes silent,sometimes loud
remembering how important we were
and how non-existant we have come to be now---

I am a sweet nothing walking down the street
invisible to some, visible to others
but I am who I am and I speak what I want to speak
for fear is not a part of my everyday language---

Poetry by Eva
Read 1148 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2009-07-08 at 21:57

Tags Importance  Society  Loneliness 

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Kathy Lockhart
you are the universe and you are a star. you are the fragrance and you are the flower. You are the poet and your are the song.
You are you right where you belong. : ) kathy

Your poem touches heartstrings. Very troubling in its beauty and truth.

I am...EXISTENCE yet forgotten. Very touching piece.

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