Today, a second day
of moping
Yesterday I realized
my words were no longer
being read
When once they were
my conduit of expression,
my catharsis.
There were those that shared
my mind, my heart and would
share with me their’s
No longer do they seem
to hear me laugh or sing
share my day time reverie
or night time dreams
They seem to care no
longer for when I’m lonely
or hear my tear drops fall
The pain and angst I feel
of unfulfilled social causes
fill my book of writ
They no longer tease or
have anywhere to go
My words are sprawled about,
strewn, complacent, now
apathetically floating in cyberspace
Used to use their colors
to paint the pictures
on my life’s canvas
But what’s the use
if no one visits my gallery
I may not be a Matisse
or Vincent van Gogh,
appealing or not
but just the visit,
someone just to care
nene,
ReplyDeleteSounds like you're going through a rough time, my friend. Although I may not get to my blog friends daily, know that I do, and will, get there. I consider you one of my friends and I care about you and look forward to your words. And remember, during his life, Van Gogh was miserable and sold only one painting!
Thanks Lolamouse. I'm fine and my world of expectations, if any, are more atuned to those with little worlds not of their choice or doing. I am wealthy with a chest filled of many moments shared in love and friendships.
ReplyDeleteGracias, mi amiga.
Glad to hear it : )
ReplyDeleteYes, your words are still read, even if you don't see comments! Many times, I read great blog posts, but don't get the chance to tell the author so.
ReplyDeleteWe all have these moments, though, it's true....writing has a lot to do with faith, doesn't it.
Hope your year is off to a good start!