Sunday, July 18, 2010

The man he was

This man is lost to the intervening years,
thank God, and the new man has emerged.

The walls reflect nothing,
allow nothing, just the dusty
depression of a room within
a house within a faltering marriage,
barren of love or hope of continuing.
Only a break in the blinds allows
a razor's shard of light through
to the suffocating heaviness of the
dark room, slanting across the floor
to the feet of the man in his chair,
the man he is, a diminished shell
now, devoid of dreams and plans,
of sexuality and a passion to live,
longing for the man he was and
the life he failed to appreciate.


nouvelles couleurs - vienna atelier said...

so sad and so real.. leave me thinking...
I like this write so much

Warren said...

Thanks Laura - Your feelings and comments are very welcome to me.


Nana Fredua-Agyeman said...

thanks Warren... you write well.

Warren said...

Fred! It's been a long time since we spoke - how are things in Ghana? I need to check up on you once in awhile.

Gillena Cox said...

i'm not an opptimist; just an encourager;
i read your poem and converse with your muse

"Only a break in the blinds allows
a razor's shard of light through"

God love you

much love

Warren said...

Thanks Gillena - This is much in the past, dredged up for the benefit of a poem. Life is much better now. Thanks!

Anonymous said...

cool blog.

think i will give it a tweet.

Warren said...

Thanks N. - I appreciate your stopping by and am currently checking out your site - lovely one, by the way!


Adelaide said...

I am happy for you that this is dreged up from the past and not current. All the best to you, Warren. You write beautiful poetry.


Warren said...

Hi Adelaide - Yes, I'm very grateful that part of me is in the past, and that's where it will remain except for the purpose of poetry. Thanks!