"The poem... is a little myth of man's capacity of making life meaningful. And in the end, the poem is not a thing we see - it is, rather, a light by which we may see - and what we see is life." ~Robert Penn Warren, Saturday Review, 22 March 1958
Today's prompt: Make your poetry personal.
Bob lives in the shadows,
Hidden deep away,
Not even sure of his own name anymore.
He exists on the edge of society,
Watches people from the sidelines,
Observing wide-eyed and eager.
Bob has soft edges, blurry lines,
But the sharpest teeth underneath,
Cutting deep to the truth.
He likes unusual images,
Commenting on the world around him.
Bob is quiet, but determined,
Has a razor-like wit,
Is quick and sarcastic,
And occasionally romantic.
But tell a soul and he'll laugh it off,
With a tiny shrug.
You need to approach him softly,
Gently with caution,
To get him on your side.
He likes his own company,
To sit and think things through.
Bob can be sutble, clever and sweet,
Funny and cool, angst-ridden or light,
Taking mental images,
Of his journey through life,
Hoping to one day
Make a very small difference.