A Stab at Poetry

I tried something new today, I took a stab at poetry. I'm more of a prose guy myself, but a good friend of mine sent me a poem to read, The Stranger by Charles Bukowski. After reading I felt the sudden and profound inspiration from one of the greats, and I put my pen to page (or more like my finger to keyboard). While my other pieces are in the works, I decided to post my poem! Enjoy, and subscribe for more great content!

Stuck

 

By Nate Orecchio

 

Stuck

 

By Nate Orecchio

 

Line by line I write

Not thinking, not breathing, just feeling

Feeling, the only thing illuminating the night

A light post to the street I walk

Steps fall on solid ground

The rest of life swirls around like a washing machine

Could it be, this world I’m in,

The very thing which makes me glim

Which sucks away my breath

The only solace found in death

Or is my world one which doesn’t exist to most

It lies on top like dust on an old wardrobe

Me, a particle caught between the two

Collecting more dust yet stuck to the splintered wood

Will I ever settle amongst the cracks?

Or will I be swept away with the dust?

 

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