What hath I done to earn such disdain?
Thust'ly I'd treated thee with an utmost courtesy,
And yet,
I'd call this breath of redundant utterances,
A practice of utter futility.
The breadth of my wonderment at the crushing silence graced upon my disbelieving ears,
I stand fast as the imperceptible stones are cast upon my fragile soundings,
Your callousness resounds and rebounds within my vacant battleground.
Occupied by none other,
Confined within my ceaseless, if imperfect, selflessness,
I am merely a soul.
Cast upon, or down'pon the mercifully unforgiving earth.
Borne brazenly to those who are willing to listen,
At the risk of those who won't.
******'d herein I lye,
Gazing 'pon the relentless, endless skies.
I am merely a man,
Searching for a home.
I am merely the mind within which I reside,
I am,
Merely,
Who I am.
I have posted an edited version.
Normally I would just edit the original poem, or if the changes are significant enough, delete and re-post.
I've decided to keep this older version up as a demonstration of the changing in my thought processes day to day.
I often go to read back poems I'd written and I just, don't like them at all.
The way they flow, sound, etc.
Usually I can change the wording to improve the flow and sound without losing the original meaning.
Feel free to compare the original and the edit side by side.
Which do you like better?
