I’ve decided to put up some of my old poetry occasionally.  Some of it was objectively terrible (you won’t be seeing those) but I quite like some of them.  Poetry has always been a sort of cathartic force for me.  I have written almost all of them when I was dealing with intense (usually negative) feelings and I needed a way of parcelling those feelings, a way to make them a bit more manageable and bearable.

Misty forest

Mists of time

clouding everything

the future

lost in the past.

The mists cover the beast

that we may follow its tracks

yet blunder blindly into it.

’90

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