I render myself through poetry,
some are better and some worse,
my thoughts race ‘round my inner self
in fragments of metered verse.
But through these scraps, you can hear my heart
throbbing in metronomic pace,
you can catch a whisper of my soul
and view glimpses of my real face.
I sit and type and my spirit soars,
I write longhand in blue or black ink,
to structure my chaotic desires
or to unburden the way I think.
And in glib verse I give to you
my heartache, my love and soul.
In one instant, I am a scattered mess
the next – serene and whole.
The only way to find my voice
the best way to share with you,
Is when on paper I complete myself
so you can share it too.
My words conspire to reveal,
unearth, and then convey
the truth I see when I look inside,
my honesty on display.
©2013 Christopher Reilley
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