Empty Space

A fulfillment not yet satisfied
A place not yet called home
No one but I'm not terrified
I'm humble on being alone

Face to face with just me
Open heart to an empty hand
Broken by the woman I see
How could anyone stay to stand

Close reflection of myself
Questioning what has appeared
Just me and no one else
So why should I be here

Reviews

[albee]

form this old eyed perspective, this piece expresses to me...
the enigma of our post-post modern epidemic existential angst...
...trying to get out of my subjective silo...I see youth, potential, loneliness, a moment in time of a growing creature...a trough in the sine wave of life...
you are a skilled rhymester...your thymes do not interfere with the narrative of your poems...

[albee]

"open heart to an empty hand"
a line that penetrated my memories of moments of such existential despair...

[Vertigo Cat1111]

Why doesn't this have any reviews?? I don't know about anyone else, but I adore metaphors about home. And everything it could mean, and your poem here is wonderfully and beautifully written. The ache is palpable and you can truly feel it through the words. I'd love to see this in a poetry book because that's where it feels like it belongs.