Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Being in-between is never the lackluster of choice. I heed choices around like flyers wanting to join a cause. Imaginary circus of arts that never heed the claims of self choice. Choice disregards the claims of the imaginary circus. Disregarding all claims. Flyers flying around the in-between being free. Captured within there realm. Realm full of artistic surges! Extending past its bubble. Purging a focus deeming itself without worthy statements. Since actuality isn’t much of a focus for being in-between. A bubble surrounding even greater surfaces. One marked by choices. Marked by claims. Even marking self choice. Anti disregarding symptoms. Caring for what actually happens. An illusion in the light, that purges the shade holding two halves into one singular point. Points too judgy for claims, such as responsibility. No yes’s and no’s to be the counter balance. Imaginary circus becoming somewhat tainted. Heeds around choices without claims to care. Surging the realm full of arts. Nothing happens, until it chooses to act. I am in-between. And I am balance itself.
0
Oct 4, 2019
Oct 4, 2019 at 3:11 PM UTC
I Am In-Between.
Being in-between is never the lackluster of choice. I heed choices around like flyers wanting to join a cause. Imaginary circus of arts that never heed the claims of self choice. Choice disregards the claims of the imaginary circus. Disregarding all claims. Flyers flying around the in-between being free. Captured within there realm. Realm full of artistic surges! Extending past its bubble. Purging a focus deeming itself without worthy statements. Since actuality isn’t much of a focus for being in-between. A bubble surrounding even greater surfaces. One marked by choices. Marked by claims. Even marking self choice. Anti disregarding symptoms. Caring for what actually happens. An illusion in the light, that purges the shade holding two halves into one singular point. Points too judgy for claims, such as responsibility. No yes’s and no’s to be the counter balance. Imaginary circus becoming somewhat tainted. Heeds around choices without claims to care. Surging the realm full of arts. Nothing happens, until it chooses to act. I am in-between. And I am balance itself.
Growing up while fissuring my way through multiple crowds, heeding my choices between their claims.
Written by
Oct 4, 2019
Oct 4, 2019 at 3:11 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem