Intrepid explorer of my mind's eye
Shallowly fleeing I am from this lie
Couldn't stay behind to say goodbye
Couldn't contain this urging cry
Lifted I feel, as the irregularities become the norm
Gifted I feel, blessed with the surge of the storm
One might ask what I run from
To this I ask you for a crumb
Of your thoughts on some
Those pronounced to be dumb
Shifted around, apathy is the enemy of our generation
Sifted around, procrastination it's aid in preparation
Suffocating another memory I must
My mind's eye has a full crust
So I run away with the wind's gust
Leaving behind a clot of trust
Drifted past, the truth of my denial
Sifted past, the reality of my guile
Sharpened are my senses
Behind all these fences
Piled high in pretenses
Of the need for defenses
So what do I run from, I run from myself
Where can I go, to my mind itself
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks for a great read Izik,10+ regards Tom