I think the public image of personal growth
Has been incorrectly portrayed in the confines
Of a catch up conversation between disconnected pen pals
And with it brings a very venomous drawback indeed
Oh it shows when I’m sat slouched in my chair like quicksand
Playing Glass Harmonicas with my coffee mug
Trying to pass of asking about the rotas at your work
As a deep, meaningful and interesting conversation
Like the ones we had 5 am outside the abandoned estates
Putting the world to rights, as we deconstructed and dissect
The flawed expectations of outdated mindests of all the grown ups
But now I struggle to find the words to ask how you are
The person I long to talk too they’re dead and gone
Do you agree? Do you think the same things about me?
We were lost souls in a sea of possibilities
Being barked at from every angle to breast stroke
But young lovers will always be content
With laying on their back and floating in the ocean
But now we’ve both straightened up and fallen in line
Did we lose it? The only thing that kept us nattering for hours?
Was our sense of anarchy the only thing that binded us?
Now our paths are off in opposite directions, the distance only grows
Did you forget how to give people that look in your eye
Or do you keep it on reserves just for the next one too see?
*Written For National Poetry Month – 8/30*
Domestic Poetry 