JR ( / )

Prisoner In My Own Mind

My head is whirling.
Planning, scheming.
To formulate a strategy.
With ways to get even.

Even.
What exactly is even?
Not possible,
To achieve.

A war to be fought.
A battle to be won.
It’s always present.
Never ending.

Fleeting moments,
Of joy and peace,
Are rare.
No room.

People shy away from me.
They sense the turmoil,
Within me.

They choose to stay away.
They have their own.

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Other poems of RUSSELL (1)

Comments (3)

Lovely poem, Jane :) Revenge is a waste of energy and breath...best to just rise above it...and see the turmoil ease. Good to meet another 'namesake' Best wishes :) jack.
Liked both poems, jane Very moving... All the Best...
Another good write. I can see your talent, and I love the twists and turns of your words. Keep writing.