Between Past and Future

Whenever I tell others »I am a poet«
They look at me as if I am ancient
For them, my mind seems to be like a porcelain cup in an antique shop

Although I read yellowed pages of countless books
And I write some verse
My soul is not filled with memories of better days
I believe in the true meaning of poïesis
“to bring forth something new”

Caught between past and future
My body contains the code of evolution
But my lungs inhale fresh air
Scars on my skin, my dreams at night remind me of my mistakes
At the same time
I try to create a life that no one has ever lived before

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2 thoughts on “Between Past and Future

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