Poetry is the overflowing of the Soul. -Henry Theodore
Tuckerman, author and critic (1813-1871)
Last night Nici and I had nightmares
I thought it was due to pressure from
outside, danger stalking us from unknown
sources, meantime the rejection was inside
YOU were the force of fury unleashed
I thought his friend’s perpetual presence
was the reason for Tiaan’s upset, meantime
it was YOU being angry with us, I thought
strangers would reject my ideas, meantime
my levity was the reason
For my colleagues’ hostility, my soul is
overflowing in tears…
But I believe I am living the life I imagine
I am living, that should I feel happy to be
me and turn my eyes to things I like to see
then that is my life – not the disposition
and attitude of those around me
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