ToffeeFable
11-26-2017, 02:26 PM
It’s always people,
People who stir my emotions.
They’re my only source of inspiration,
The only subjects that appear in work I can call my own.
I commemorate them with written word,
An award I may never show them,
And as a description without name,
Anonymity contains their fame.
In the images my mind swims,
The man who wore yellow glasses with grey rims,
The girl who could hear ghosts,
The woman who refused to hold my father’s sins against me.
I wonder if I myself must be empty
To be capable of such affection,
Thoughts fluttering to others and remaining even after those others fade,
Fade into periphery and past.
People who stir my emotions.
They’re my only source of inspiration,
The only subjects that appear in work I can call my own.
I commemorate them with written word,
An award I may never show them,
And as a description without name,
Anonymity contains their fame.
In the images my mind swims,
The man who wore yellow glasses with grey rims,
The girl who could hear ghosts,
The woman who refused to hold my father’s sins against me.
I wonder if I myself must be empty
To be capable of such affection,
Thoughts fluttering to others and remaining even after those others fade,
Fade into periphery and past.