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Rated: E · Poetry · Crime/Gangster · #2077977
Identity theft.

Shall I compare it to an aching tooth?
Identity is lost--the self has fled.
A cavity causes pain, yet in truth,
the loss of me chafes raw pale flesh to red.

Mysterious some stranger being me,
though I, in life, signed up with Safe and True.
Yet safety of persona not to be,
and now another wears my sock and shoe.

The oneness that I knew a vapor trail,
an evanescent cloud resigned to space.
Oh, I could sit around the house and wail,
or maybe I could just disguise my face.

Purloining someone else pathetic pelf;
alas, I’ll face it as another self.

14 Lines
Shakespearean Sonnet
Writer’s Cramp Winner

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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2077977