Blur

Tousled strands of
my private theories

are scattered where
I confined memories

of the good past,
of the bad ghosts.

I separate myself
from uncertainties,

disconnected to
foreign habits.

Weak souls cannot
carry heavy loads,

meek souls can
anchor in true peace.

I detest my weakness,
I prolong my meekness.

2015

Advertisements

About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s