The fog of my eye hides truth.
I peer through the haze,
I think I see a corner booth,
It’s full of friends from past days.
I rub my eyes and the image changes.
The lighting of this booth is dim,
Ill-lit to hide the scars on our faces.
As one mutters, “who invited him?”
My ears deceive me in this moment.
Am I wanted, or not? I cannot tell.
My feet are stuck in the cold cement
The sudden shock rises in a drastic shrill.
The exit serves as a sweeping draft
That cools me from the rising heat.
Is it just me that feels the heat blast?
Or are we all just faking, stuck in defeat?
I want to know what you, the reader, thinks. Consider leaving a comment and I will reply!
Primitive Poetry 
Your writing gives such beautiful insight into human experience ✨
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Thank you, I want to write things that many can relate to if they put some time into trying to understand. Poetry is not about throwing “feeling” words out there, but rather showing emotion through image and deep thought.
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Your poem is a beautiful expression of questions to oneself. Thanks for writing
Here’s another Would you read me
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Thank you, the questions here appear to be of inclusion and self-worth. Thank you for stopping by, if you are interested, please check out some of my other poems 🙂
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Uncomfortably real at least a few times in life…
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Realness is often uncomfortable
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It’s like a moment of epiphany mixed with Oedipus’ blind eyes. I love multiple themes in a poem. You have done well, William.
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Thank you, I like to diversify my themes for more influence on a larger group
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I see. I also like that. I will look on your poems to see what other themes and subjects you tackle.
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Thank you 🙏
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love this poem! very deep and powerful! thank you so much for sharing💞
Follow @everythingtips for tips and recommendations if interested! It would mean a lot to me!🥺🤍
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Thank you!
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