Surviving the 60’s – Pretending to Be

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girls-room

Smoking fags in my best friend’s bedroom,

Pretending to be someone else,

Listening to Dylan whine his laments,

Pretending to be somewhere else.

 

Caught in the void of becoming,

Learning to let go of the past,

Wondering who, where to be,

Not part of the everyday crowd.

 

The Monsignor has condemned me,

My parents pronounced me dead,

My siblings struggle to find safety,

Amidst broken domesticity.

 

Hiding unseen in plain sight,

Seeking survival from a structured life,

Escape to England’s Porlock shores,

Embrace a changed pattern flow.

 

Celebrate Tea Time,

Travel by horse shod feet,

Feel the mystery of the Moors,

Mourn a thickly iced chocolate cake.

 

Pretend to be someone else,

Pretend to be somewhere else.

 

4 responses »

  1. Deep yet wonderful echoes in your words, like stepping bare-foot through a dark forest.
    Wishing you the very best, and much love. Have an enjoyable Christmas and New Year my friend!
    Ishaiya x

    Like

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