Life is not a book
and though I try
words are
not synonymous
with experience.
Prose fails
to capture
true emotion
that ruptures
both heart and mind.
Line after line
I’m misplaced
where, what and
who am I?
the author unknown.
Chapters end
and still am I
naive,
ignorant,
hapless?
I turn the page.
Life is not a book.
I know the meaning of words,
but I can’t define them.
I know why I love you,
but I can’t find the words.
I could sum up my life with one word,
if only I could remember it.
I would dance with you,
if I knew which steps to take.
I would lay with you,
if I knew which side you preferred.
I would wake up by your side,
if I could sleep through the night.
I would fantasise with you forever,
if only I could dream.
I thought I knew the meaning of words
– but I’ve changed!
And all the books I’ve read,
no longer read the same.
Lewis Walddren 