“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label selves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label selves. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
Me, me, me, me
Is it fair to wonder
when I can be the me
I see,
when I think of who
I want to be-
come from where I stand
now-
it looks far as never
and if I am ever as close
as I am now,
I wonder if I will notice
the fair resemblance
to my former self-
or will I wish
to go on
wondering who
the next me will be?
Image of painting by Léon Perrault, c. 1868 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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