Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2015
There are times when the English language fails me.

Times in between flicks of the lighter
and gulps of cheap *****
in which a brief memory
consumes me
and brings me
into the moment I made a promise
to never let my hobbies
become habits.

Particularly those that took me
away from what I
was and propelled me
into a place where I
could be painfully numb.

Remembering when I
used to write with a fervor
that was inspired solely by feeling
and a lust to remain a pure and unadulterated man,
determined to keep his art a reflection of self.

There is no word in the English language I
can use to describe my disappointment after those times.
Jasper Downey
Written by
Jasper Downey  Cloud City, Bespin
(Cloud City, Bespin)   
359
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems