The Title Told Me So

Well, since this blog is inappropriately titled "Something Poetic" I now feel obliged (self-obligated, mind you) to include a wee bit o' poetry. Here's the only thing I got...

Yellow Line

Across the street I saw myself

A mere shadow of my soul

And so I step

And stepped I did

To stand as divided pole

I walked to feel

And feel I did, as I did once but cry

The shame the guilt the outright fit

That encroached upon my mind

As I stood amidst the traffic pit

I could but clearly see

The faded cover of my soul

Cracked and stained from hidden pain

That alluded even me

Is there yearning or acceptance?

Or just a cool exterior waiting to be touched?

To be warmed

To feel.

In this indefinite zone. this yellow line.

Self-inflicted or a product of time.

I'll explain my thoughts behind this at a later date, I'm starting to feel inhuman (no "e").

Bye Self! [sanity (?)]