Passerby

A reflection on the missed opportunity to make something great. Inspired by the poem "Harlem" by Langston Hughes.

To live a lie, I must have lived.
Well, lived to give,
and give I did.

But, not to make.
With rage, I shake.
The missing layers of the cake.

On mountain high, the rope secured.
I dare to speak, but not a word.

Pouring rain on thirsty ground.
His mind is dirt.
His head, a mound.

Author's Note

What do you think of the imagery?

Reviews

[FateDictates]

no so much the imagery came to mind but rather the easy captivating melodic flow if your words..well done, curtsy bow

[Brent]

Thanks! This was one of the first "good" poems that I ever wrote. Fun to look back on the progress I've made. Glad you enjoyed the flow.

Again, thank you for your kind review!