Pincers
I don’t often share my poems here. It’s less down to modesty and more linked to habit. Instagram is my normal poetry playground. But sometimes it feels a bit raw for open consumption. I have no illusions as to my influence in this particular corner of the Internet. Who am I kidding? Im shouting into the wind, thoughts blown away. But I feel better for it and so it goes on. Poems let me say what I feel rather than what I think . I need poetry, prose and painting in my life in order to function in a meaningful way. I recently applied to go on a course at the Faber Academy. The fee was completely out of my park so I applied for a scholarship. I was hopeful but found out this week that I didn’t get it. I have to admit to being gutted. I am now thinking a lot about what I want to do in the future. It’s not an easy subject but I can’t avoid it either. This poem is about this process. What are your thoughts?
Your lines
"I have faded from the horizon
Im smaller in my reach
May footprints has reduced
A bit
Bound feet"
along with your closing lines about being alone really strike home with me today.
Thank you for sharing.