There is a time for rhyme,
And then there is another time.
There is a face I show,
And in another place,
Another face to see
And then there's me.
Is it me that in my rhyme I see,
Or do I lie?
What shall I be?
The mirror stands before,
Its image I ignore.
I wear a mask,
And still I ask,
What can this wretched creature be?
I seek a key to set me free,
But still the door lies open.
The way is marked with lantern clear
But still I stumble.
These words they trickle from my mind
In permutated jumble.
The truth I see,
The words aren't me,
But I am my word's decree.
Greg Davidson's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (An Introspection by Greg Davidson )
- Break pen, hasmukh amathalal
- Water, Robert Lowell
- Soaking Up Essence Of Meaning, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Full interest, hasmukh amathalal
- Frozen sentiments, hasmukh amathalal
- I sink deep, hasmukh amathalal
- Haiku ' Dray ', miken newman
- I shall never be, hasmukh amathalal
- Water, Ralph Waldo Emerson
- Beside you walks a woman, Pradip Chattopadhyay
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- The Tiger, William Blake
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Heather Burns
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)