Dusty Poems 17

The poem below is from the Dusty Poems series, a collection of poems I wrote many years ago, long before I knew how much of a force poetry would be in my life. I’ve enjoyed going through these old poems that contain a completely different voice and style than I write poetry now, but have been interesting to reflect on. I hope you enjoy them, too.

Like petals plucked from daisies
Aspirations float to the floor
And you continue in darkness
Searching for the outreached hand that led you before
Closing your eyes the room begins to spin
You have to remind yourself once more
Just breathe…
It’s not the room you’re lost in
It’s the confusion in your head
And all you really wish to do is curl up back in bed
It takes all the strength you have
To open up your eyes
It takes all the hope inside
To proceed towards the door
Stumbling on the thoughts you have
Tripping on the petals
Reaching with one gasp of breath
You swing open the door
You’re suffocating in this room
Waiting for a whisper of air
But you look up to see the same room you were in before
Walking from one room to the next
They all look the same
Screaming out in frustration
You’re tired of playing this game
With one moment of clarity
A realization sets in
It was never the rooms that were the same
It was the frustration that came from within