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by Logan
Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #2229274
For the ones lost by the wayside and the ones who left them there
Lost in Translation

I got lost in translation,
some pieces, they were missed
Ideas out my station,
... items off the list

Trains of thought derailed,
unconveyed and losing track
Pains spent when they failed,
frustrations where we lack

Twisting to a prison,
that should've felt like home;
such facets in this prism,
they turn for me alone

Spinning slowly, strident,
such daylight left denied
An sos ran silent,
in our way, we know we tried

to stem a tide, with less done,
an endless ebb and flow
Afraid to ask the questions,
to let the interest show

to ones lost by the wayside,
Who should've been picked up
The places where our hearts lied,
The spaces minds corrupt

Places they will never be,
the ground they occupy
The spaces we will never see,
despite how hard we try

Isolated, out of touch,
such truths our lies belie
When something matters far too much,
it's hard to reason why

Why such things still hold their thrall,
regardless of lapsed time
We give our best, we give our all,
sometimes its hard to shine

Playing safely in the light,
spines craven, pages turn
Selling pictures, black and white
... just let the colours burn

Let the flag fly loud and free,
at mercies of stray winds;
a wild, feral want to flee,
left vulnerable in sins

Imagined in a mindscape, raw,
unprocessed, to ourselves;
with merchandise recalled, found flawed,
'midst good stock left on shelves

with spirits found and souls remade,
found anxious in a crowd
Procrastinated acts, delayed,
played far too safe, too proud

Lost amidst the ether... left,
abandoned out on sleeves
When I see her... lost, bereft,
such confidence, it leaves

Stilted conversation drawn,
tilted for the day
Filtered from a past, stillborn,
jilted, guant and grey

One way conversations, dreamed,
with messages unsent;
Imagined altercations, gleaned,
we wonder where they went

or if we ever had them, held,
... ever truly there?
Narcissistic habits felled,
rounds lonely... solitaire

A show of hands, of patience, key,
too much at times, it seems;
a penchant for complacency,
a tendency to dream

of fantasies on high, above,
a glowing, flowing fount
Running from the things we love,
and loathe in equal counts

Left wary of the limelight's cost,
with lives unlived, for rent;
hearts and souls in hindsight, lost,
with chances missed, mispent

Buried with the best ones, tasked,
set harder to define;
'midst open ended questions, asked,
'midst silence on the line

Hanging white, a valanced noise,
in static 'tween the points
Vacuums lacking balance, poise,
spaces, time annoints

Bathed in solemn vagueness, blessed,
such clarity is lost
Inactions set to plague us, test,
in hindsight, hides the cost

Paved roads to hell, unmentioned,
drove anxiously, we stray;
a maze of best intentions,
just packaged the wrong way

A message ran discordant,
with excess baggage stowed;
whilst something quite important,
gets lost within the code

Guessed seconds into midnight,
the witching hour calls
Confessions, sins, slipped mid-flight
pitching as it falls

a pleasure ran mercurial,
with faults flagged, left ignored;
with treasure hidden, valuable,
in vaults left unexplored

in oceans deep, with duller reeds,
That hide the brightest reefs
Hearts that bleed, an aching need,
just longing for relief

In need of confirmation,
from the ones we'd like to stay
Seeking out attention,
whilst we look the other way

with letters never written,
and post cards never sent
Sights to which we're smitten,
spoken as was meant

Lightning caught and bottled,
captured... choking... lost
In airways stalling, throttled,
bespoken at a cost

Saved for the right hands, reserved,
to come and claim their prize
Such treasure only shows its worth,
to valid hands or eyes

We try to sort the wheat from chaff,
to drink from chosen fonts;
when something you can never have,
... is all you ever really want

that final item on the list,
left on the shelf, thought through;
to find exactly what you missed,
... the things you didn't do

A lustrous vein that went untapped,
a life laid out, ignored;
when someone's left a secret map,
to leave it unexplored

Denoted with a crimson cross,
so painfully composed
Someone's gain... somebody's loss,
left vulnerable, exposed

Exposed, drawn, naked, in the night,
with angels in the wing
Paths sailed sacred, shipping light,
as mermaid whispers sing

of ships bereft relation, short,
so strayed along the way
I got lost in translation... thought
... there's not much more to say
© Copyright 2020 Logan (stipey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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