Anachronism.

Estranged from my body, I feel
The thoughts I deny gush
at my presence, screaming of
The memories betwixt then and now.

Though I can hear their intrusion,
I cannot bring my body to
Heed their broken call; still they
Beckon my due return.

The clamor is overpowered
By the ringing sound of
Absence, And I awaken
to the rising of the present.

My eyes accept the world,
Listless, tired, taking in
The light as it streams into
My long empty conscious.

Too long have I felt that I'm not at home.
I have always been waiting to go home.

Reviews

[Ryan Rivers]

use of repetition in the last stanza makes this poem powerful and gives the audience a stance, that we can relate to.