On the aisland


Autónomo at its most arduous

makes me consider islas.

A haven or retreat for the aislado

or solamente a solitary must?

Some islands desaparecidos dear distractions

aún, I sit alone, pondering la situación

solely myself, la es mía

is it self-creación or deprivación?

Without one to articulate

estoy como un soul separado

desperately trying for refuge unfound,

Stuck inside secretos construidos.

The unclear cosas that I brought

useless crumble, como rena por mis dedos.

determine my enclave, jail enclosed

mi aislamiento, more thoughts of my credos.

When haya terminado con mis pensativos

perhaps I would build un puente

partitions to place me in society

a resolution, no man es una isla, en la mente.

Source of my confusions

conocido con clear torment

distant no longer, porque

con ambos I am fluent.

by Rachel Barnard – Author, Poet & Dreamer  Posted with Permission

Rachel-barnard.blogspot.com Learn more about Rachel Barnard, Featured Author

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