Nobody told him he was incomplete.
Doesn’t he stand firmly on his own two feet?
Two eyes, two ears, a mouth full of sound,
There are enough words to go around.
But now he knows without a doubt,
No need pretending to still be a boy scout,
There is some truth to the suggestion,
There is now the hint of a question.
No matter how much he might protest,
Something missing he never noticed.
What brings him to this strange impasse,
He looks again into the mirror, feeling aghast.
He has everything he needs, except his face,
A lack of sympathy has slowly taken its place.
What good is the body if it isn’t whole?
What remains of the face if there is no soul?
I see the metaphor here, but perhaps because of a story I recently heard about a returning soldier I couldn't help thinking about those who return from war or some other calamity with horrific external scars, too.
This one is very beautifully crafted and strikes home for some people. There's much to be said (and has been said) about the looking glass and what is missing from our lives. You kind of hit the nail on the head."
yes, chasing after extremes we get incompleteness in hand. Modern world wants us be experts in certain narrow fields in order we produce more technologically to the prejudice of what from ancient times has been called 'personality' or 'the true man' completed equally in all inner and outer respects. In this way, the generations of human beings cannot last long; hence all these talks about the end of the world. . . a greatly arranged piece of one particular case at large. Cheers, alex
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
This is a book of free verse poetry that addresses the seven main tests in life and offers some sensible solutions to passing those tests with minimal discomfort.
Perhaps "..Quiet Storm" will help rekindle old flames buried and long forgotten or express the love so deeply locked inside of your soul longing to be released.
Regardless of where you may be found in love this beautiful masterpiece can be
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Very good writing, indeed!
Rebecca
Love ya!
Jane
Ron
Ahhh . . . Soul . . . Inner self . . . Heart . . . Whatever works, John.