Lost Things – Poetry


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What is it to be broken? 

Shattered like a glass screen? 

Shattered like the tension of meaningless drama? 

Shattered like everyone else’s small, small world?


Walk by a million souls

But none of them see you 

The shallow squabbling of superficial woes  

Once in a while, one greets you


It’s a greeting that peels your skin 

Like thousands of writhing worms squelching in your stomach

Like a swarm of centipedes scurrying, suttling up and down your spine 

Like the pressure of society slowly suffocating your body


What is it to leave behind the lessons learned?

To abandon all that is seemingly pointless? 

To abandon ethics and morals? 

To abandon both humility and shame?


Cruel at the expense of others 

Cruel in the name of success 

Cruel because you follow blind 

Cruel at the expense of your happiness 


People, alike and unalike 

Fueled by green

Green jealousy and greed and stagnation

Wrapped in the hustle of the prison we placed ourselves in

Day in and day out 

Clock in, clock out 

World spins twenty-four seven 

Clock hands rotate tick, tick, ticking away

Working for someone else’s dreams 

Just another simple pawn in the game 

While the time is falling, slipping away


Where, oh where did our paths diverge? 

Why, oh why are we following, unconscious? 

How do we find ourselves when we have fallen so far from our guiding stars?

How do I, who wanders alone, find my path back home?


Where is the place where lost things find themselves? 

Where the broken are repaired? 

Where the lessons are found? 

Where my path is a little clearer? 


Follow the lost to a place where time stops 

Where reflections blink back at you from every shaded corner

To imagination, running wild, an escape from everything 

Find the place where lost things go 


And find yourself, you will once more.