A Name.

I often feel myself looking at what could be and thinking to myself "Why does that seem so impossible?"

Before me stands the man in time.

He stares without blinking.

The wonder of who this man is,

Fills my mind to bursting.

I ask the man a question.

What do you call yourself?

No reaction...

I reach out to touch his shoulder.

Tell me. Are you Happy?

No reaction...

With him I share my questions,

For hours upon end.

But anything thing I asked the man,

would fall on silent ears.

I become to tired to stand.

What might inspire you?

No reaction...

The man makes me feel uneasy.

How can I feel safe too?

No reaction...

It seems that I truly am Alone.

Reviews

[R.E. Ray]

Another person reading this poem might feel a sense of emptiness and despair, even if familiar emotions. However, I ask, "What does the still man see?" That's the power of poetry, and this poem, our freedom to see the world from other vantage points. We often get trapped in our own heads, and don't consider others might actually view us differently than we believe. Still, looking out, interacting with our universe, even if it doesn't speak to us, is evidence that hope lives.

I'm not much of a poet, not in the scholarly sense, so I can't offer much advice on structure, form, etc. I'll just say stick to what works for you, whether it's conforming to poetry rules or not.