Bringing Back Poetry

Everyone suffers delusions of grandeur about being a poet at one point in their life. I realized today that I have been harboring the desire to be the next Wordsworth or Keats, for this academic year was marked by an exponential increase in the number of poems I wrote for my English class. Perhaps my sudden inclination towards poetry, something I have never believed myself to possess any talent for, stemmed from the stress of the college process and the need to get my feelings down on paper in as few words as possible. Whatever the reason I find myself with a great deal of poetry gracing my computer screen and, in an effort to clear it out, I'll share it here one bit at a time. Hopefully this will satisfy my literary ambitions.

These Days
Time slips by in haste
Fragments of sand running through
The twisted vortex of glass
Bearing love away
It never lasts

She carried a basket of books
Tattered primeval fables and fairy tales
Recounting fleeting seasons of change
When life shimmered with promise
Emeralds of hope beneath the sun
Still it’s always a dream

These days scripted reality reigns
Humans step on stage
For a mere fifteen minutes of life
Flaming out before they fade away
No longer angels at dawn
Aspirations of grandeur lost
Amid plunging gossamer feathers
These days survive