My Random Poetry: Rough Edges and Frayed Places

Rough Edges and Frayed Places

Sometimes I'm drawn in rough angles

All rough angles and sharp edges. Unsmoothed,

Drawn as a shattered mirror. I'm broken

And cannot be fixed. Other times

I think I'm more like ruined fabric.

I'm flawed and torn, ripped up;

I cannot be sewn back together, mended.

It's a shattered life that I live,

Uncomplicated by the things I most want.

I'm a sketched shadow of dreams

And hopes. Sketched and graying

With age and disillusionment; If the sun

Shines on me, It highlights

My rough edges and frayed places.

But I still stand in the sun.

It’s a broken life, and I live it

Broken and torn,

Pieced and stitched together, 

But still hoping, still dreaming. 

I think this poem was started around my birthday. My birth month is often a low place for me. I suppose it is for many of us. Our birthdays remind us of where we dreamed we'd be but we haven't yet arrived. I wish I were one of the lucky ones (the ones who've realized many or all of the things they dreamed), but I'm not. I'm still a work in progress, but as long as I'm progressing, that's okay with me.