PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There’s times when am clueless,
as I see my identical reflection,
I ask, “is that me, or is it another dream.”
I heard my oral speak,
I observe and remember what my optical lenses have seen,
my auditory instruments have heard,
try to remember the steps me feet have trace,
what my sense of touch have felt,
the times my heart had empathy and care for a being ,
the times that I hug with warmth a broken heart,
a soul in pain,
a lost mind,
the times I preference the ones I love n care beyond my light an soul,
the times when the inner child has shown,
the times when the poetic poet wrote its pain and songs,
its soul in the thinness skin of a tree,
I still remain blue,
why did I do such things?
Even if I knew a sharp pain was to fallow,
if I knew the next rooster song they will forget about today,
that their soul will not show no gratitude,
that soon the earths breath will vanish them,
the trace of an evaporated river across ma face,
the circulator of life has been damage,
causing a delay in the system,
cerebellum causing a shortage in the nervous system,
its receptors refusing to corporate,
still clueless for what I have done,
is it because that’s the man inside,
or just because I’ve conquered the salvage beast,
whatever it is I still remain clueless.