Seeing things differently revisited

by poetrydiary

This is a reworking of my very old poem below. Not sure I’ve learnt much, but enjoyed the challenge from we write poems. I feel this would benefit from another rewrite yet!

Existence, at nineteen, is a blank page
in a book unwritten, and without

And the moments of love
that follow,
if you are lucky, by chance,
and in unexpected places,
resonate for years, like wars.

The poetry of life is a wonderful thing
and at forty four more complicated again
than you can possibly expect, when wondering
about existence, and love, is a route to pain.

Different perspectives: understood more, and cared
less for, having invested so much in our own.
Mostly by accident, in fact, we have bared
our soul, and sought others’ identities, on loan.

And those moments of love
return, again:
just moments – months or weeks;
so much more than rhyme,
which is easy, in time.

Poetry is not.
Uniqueness –
cannot last.

© 2011 Matthew Rhodes