As if to enter this world
for the first time
the first time.
World of others where
danger spread
her invisible wings
bright and brilliant
and veined with possibility
to delight or dare.
Where passion deep deep
poured from wells lined
with souls
and silence
crying cries of cries of those
who came before.
I hesitated. Stumbled.
Unsure and afraid.
Concealed.
From all those who
ran laughing.
Now,
after all of it,
all that hiding
in sight of soaring splendid moons
and rising suns
over and over
that which is not me,
I realise this dream
an inconsequential man.
Poetry of Addiction 