Dec 03 2009
My Ghosts
They gather and
scratch at the edges
and doors of my dreams
Slipping through the
cracks and crevices
blocking the light
bringing the dark
and the Doubts
And I comfort
the useless,
worthless
frightened me
Tell her to
be brave –
that it’s just a
dream
And dreams can
be chased
by the light of
day.
But she doesn’t
believe me
and keeps a
watchful eye
on the Moon.
Copyright 2009
4 responses so far
I bristled at this: “the useless, worthless me” even though I believe after reading your poem a few more times, I understand this from a slightly different viewpoint than I first did. I wanted to argue against your words, to say you are not useless/worthless but my newer perception sees where you might be saying that the fearful part of you is useless and worthless, not YOU as a person which is entirely acceptable and totally different. Anyway, lol, I like this!!
hello purple,
yes, i suppose the worthless useless me is a separate part of the me-me. sometimes it is hard to tell them apart though. thanks for reading, you’re a sweetheart.
well thank you so much for defending my honor.
sarah
That’s such a hard fight, keeping the doubts at bay. Just when you think you’ve conquered them, new ones always pop up like annoying little weeds. All the same, though, keep dreaming, Sarah..:-)
hi cd,
yes, it is a hard fight and the weeds do insist on growing. still, we keep trying, don’t we? thanks for reading.
sarah
Really like this one Sarah.
Excellent stuff.
hi ben, happy new year. thanks for the kind words. hope all is well with you?
sarah
Hi Sarah,
Love this. Always a watchful eye over the moon.
Love
Di. x
yes di, a watchful eye on the moon is advised.
sarah