A Fight in The Dark

Reframing my mind

a thousand times

in one week.

Reality splits

wherever I go.

There’s art

defying rating,

funny and scary

all at once,

beauty intertwined with a dash

of masterful distinction.

Pleasing to the eye.

Shedding an old skin

like a snake.

Getting used to a new routine

lurking from every corner

of this rock and cave city.

Luring me with its lurid history.

Rebel writers and Robin Hood

scattered around the canal filled with boats.

I must gather materials from divergent source,

scooped up from various places and scorned.

Never acknowledged fully by anyone,

only by the writer collecting scraps

both visual and mental, replacing physical junk.

The writer wants to be known and hailed at last,

but not everyone is ready or waiting for it.

Some will ignore it and pass without a word,

only a few will be thrilled and proud.

Those who can see humanity

in a human, and not the façade,

as this was only an illusion and in a foul taste

that everyone labelled without looking back.

It’s time to complete these paintbrush strokes

with a grand flourish worth all the greatest

and walk away from all the worst without regret.