Sun and Blight

You were the crooked finger

giving direction to one blinded

by lack of experience and time

You introduced a fork in the road

lit by the fires of indecision and doubt

and they burn eternally until every good piece of paper

is consumed without a word gracing the surface

You are the keeper of my fear

the creator of my allegiance to the shadow of your cynicism

My trying ways have been battered to death

it’s bloody carcass spread across the terrain of unfulfilled potential

We are well acquainted, you and I

I am your temporary sun

You are my blight


Author: valo

I am a poet, writer and activist with a special interest in human rights for children and women as well as the elimination of poverty worldwide. If you read this today, feed someone locally for me will you? Drop off a non perishable food item at the food bank nearest you and consider yourself hugged. Thank you!

2 thoughts on “Sun and Blight”

    1. Thank you Jessie, sometimes memories of people who made you feel small can truly feel like a flame igniting your ability to write or ‘good paper’.

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