Shelflife of a Poem

I listen to my heart 

and dip pen to page

as i dip myself into life.

Experiences of people and places

cover life and page.

Change is felt and disrupts 

momentarily like a stone dropped into a reflective pool ripples outwards.

Words bubbles and cloud.

Sentiment and relevance lost.

Is poem of no value now?

I never look behind me and

wonder if my poems are valueless.

My poems reflect my life.

Rose coloured glasses fell off

not long ago and i see images

differently now to what i did.

When i was a child i spake like a child.

Experience and maturity has thrown

a new light on my perspective.

Poems reflect my life.

Mistakes are made during life.

I learn from them.

Poems are of the moment and

are like catching lightning in a bottle.

A moment passes and what was

once truth is changed and

loses its clarity and is memory.


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