Some days I dream that someone will love me
Disregard the sarcastic carapace
I hide inside
But then I catch a glimpse
of myself in a moonlit shop window
And the scared figure of my youth
Has turned crone-ish through fear and age
Occasional laughter and more frequent anxiety
Have drawn crowsfeet on my once smooth face
And I look at myself, thinking
What's not to love?
And am met by silence.
©cih16, 22:09, 11.02.16
*(Romeo and Juliet, Act 1, Scene 4)
starcline - less a blog, more a derailed train of thought
About Me
- clinestar
- Part time poet, full time librarian, student of the delights of milk chocolate. Likes books, milk, paddling, poetry, scribbling, chocolate, notebooks, sea, piers. Not necessarily in that order. All work copyright cih.