cacophonous

 

I do not die. I saunter the same route over and over.
I do not cry. I moisten the goblet and stay sober,
worshipping the intangible, every aesthetic fiber.

Like a sweater I once wore, I stretch until no more,
thinking too much, trying as such.
Then, I let go, shrinking to a ball, a frivolous and frail blob.

I do not defy, for I am a coward, a forgotten lover.
I do not fly. A flutter of wings, with a quaver,
a cacophony warbles, “fake,” “loser,” and hovers.

 

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5 Comments Add yours

  1. Sight11 says:

    The title says it all. Are you all right?

    Like

    1. nelkumi says:

      Yes. Thank you.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. andysmerdon says:

    Wow Kumi – excellent! 😊

    Liked by 1 person

    1. nelkumi says:

      Thank you! 😊

      Like

  3. andysmerdon says:

    Wow Kumi – excellent!

    Liked by 1 person

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