Why do my own words
Sometimes disgust me?
Gentle babes in my arms,
Now they turn their backs

And laugh at me.
They curse my name,
Reminding me
That I am only a man.

They tell me
That I have nothing to say
Worth saying.
What is the truth?

Are these words
Worth saving?
Is my mind
Just a wasteland

Of scattered thoughts,
Insecure feelings,
And random tangents
Of distraction?

Where is the meaning
In these silly phrases?
What is the redemption
For which I seek

In stuttering sentences
And asphyxiated hints
Of passing insights
That now escape me?

It is all just a silly game,
And the joke is on me.


Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

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