Poem Hunter
ML (March 1977 / Eastern Washington)


Each morning is another death. I die with the
opening of my eyes. Only in my dreams awaken
to fight the truth of my existence. I chose
this bed and now I lay within, unmoving,
un-resistant. There is no life for me right
now, until sleep paralyzes my reality. I bide
my time and pound the lid of this prison that
entombs me. Life demands no less of me than
what's been asked of it. I pay a debt to
fate I cannot hide from. No insanity plea can
vindicate me of life NOT lived to it's
fullest. Please tell me that there's another
chance to do it all again. I cannot bear the
thought that I've lost for all time, the one
I would call mine. What a mess I've made of
time. A gift discarded. And now time is
loosed upon me. A most unbearable prison.

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Comments (4)

Please tell me that there's another chance to do it all again nice meditative, prosaic poem
If it helps, there is another chance but not to do it all again. We must live with our regrets. Your poem is full of passion and that is how life should be lived.
Lovely poem Moriah. So well done.
I hope time will help you come to terms until new love finds you. Not a better love nor a greater love but a different love of stability and security. Then you will be able to fly! Your poem is excellent!