Just A Memory

Just A Memory short poem

Photo by philip.bitnar

As my days feel longer and my brittle bones begin to weaken,
I drift like the sea, a spark dampened, my mind a dimming beacon.
My legs are shaken and my fingers start to tremble,
My thoughts are twisted influenced by the devil.
I’m scared, for my mind has become weary and traumatic,
Lost with cluttered thoughts like an upstairs attic.
I’m a broken man, fragile and frail,
An enigma of a working man until his life turns stale.
I was once a dreamer, a young chap with ambition,
But my mind was too poor, as if it were locked in a prison.
Now I’m seeking some solace for I fear the end is near,
Please don’t pity me, not a drop of a tear.
You see, I was never a religious man but tonight I must try,
I’m sacrificing all my beliefs as I ponder, why?
It’s thoughts like these that torment my ever growing pain,
All that’s left is my memory like a stain.

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2 Comments on "Just A Memory"

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Chandrama Deshmukh
Member

@routinedreamer I have felt this stale-ness of life time and again. It’s not always old age that gets you to this feeling of worthlessness. I love the way your verse flows celebrating every pain, each trauma.
Does life really degrade us? Is deterioration the only way to escape? What do you feel?

Chandrama Deshmukh
Member

And the image of this poem is brilliant!

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