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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