Creativity stifled and a life compartmentalised...
Wife, friend, mother, sister, employee, and lover.
The face we turn to the world
reflects what we want them to see.
The hidden depths carouse deep
in our veins' pulse, or otherwise if negated,
sink unused to sluggish murky depths
as one drifts through commonalities and banalities,
without spark and without light,
half asleep and living a waking dream.
There is beauty, when viewed unshielded, is blinding.
I knew that, have I forgotten? Am I only half awake?
Wife, friend, mother, sister, employee, and lover.
The face we turn to the world
reflects what we want them to see.
The hidden depths carouse deep
in our veins' pulse, or otherwise if negated,
sink unused to sluggish murky depths
as one drifts through commonalities and banalities,
without spark and without light,
half asleep and living a waking dream.
There is beauty, when viewed unshielded, is blinding.
I knew that, have I forgotten? Am I only half awake?
© Jennifer Phillips (All rights reserved)
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| Sun over skin's hill © Jennifer Phillips |
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