Miscellaneous:

[Terry]

I think I have become
So lost in my days..
In my thoughts..
Until I'm not sure
Which way is out.

I have become wasted
In my own reverie
Until I don't know
What is or isn't

The broken fragments
Of me...

So I don't know
Where I begin
Or where I end,
Or even if there's
Anything left at all.

I have become
A searcher perhaps
Of peace of mind
But I have become
Too damn tired
To become anything else.
Or to overcome
Nightmares that still scream
And carry on into my day.

The circle continues
And grows more
With each blink of my eyes
Purpose...
Seems to be lost
On my highway of desperation.

All these years
Of waiting...
Wanting, needing,
And then giving in
Just settling..
Has left me what I am,
I have become so utterly..
Lost
and

Defeated.



**I have always wrote in rhyme, it comes more natural to me. A friend mentioned I try free verse and this is what came out. I've only written two non-rhyming, this one and Sea Of Lost Dreams. I'm an old school rhymer at heart..

[erikestabrook]

okay yeah this was sad, very goo dfeeling to this, and it was down with delicacy and intricacy it wasn't your typicla lost poem your brought something diferent too it and added power to the word by really stressing how your time was long and how your struggle was lost it was enjoyed

[Amzy]

Highway of desperation....LOVE IT! This poem is gripping from title to end, you've done a fabulous job with your free verse.

[AmazonPoet]

Terry, this poem does exactly what a poem should. It makes me feel your sigh of defeat. I felt slumped over with you, claustrophobic in the grey cloud hovering around my chair. Well done!

Not to say the poem was grey and slumped...no not at all! On the contrary, it was a pastel drawing of mood and state of mind. Thank you for sharing. Bravo on the free verse. It flowed perfectly as I read it, not once making me stop to wonder what went with what.

[Terry]

Thanks my new friends. I didn't think I could swing free verse, but I've learned emotions come just as easy as it does with rhyme. Then again, each time a pen is picked up, emotions come easy to find.