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Ides of March

The journey.

By Call Me LesPublished about a year ago Updated about a year ago 1 min read
Photo by Tomas from Pexels

Thirteen days since I felt the sun

Thirteen days since I breathed fresh air.

I try to remember the brush of soft grass

Or the feeling of falling into an embrace.


But my mind is clouded with grief.


For the one I lost,

For those that turned their head,

And for the dream that can never be.

Because the foundation was rotten.


How did I arrive at the Ides of March?


You put in your 8 hours;

So tired of the powers that rule,

I'd already won the losing ticket

Many years ago.


Darkness in her eyes intrigues.

I'm waiting for the wind.

Patagonia and open skies


Don't tell me not to live;

Take it easy friend of mine;

(Maybe this time I'll be lucky,

I could be Lady peaceful.)


Are you happy in this modern world?

Aren't you tired of being so hard core?


Let me be your wings,

And I can be your light.

Dulcet etc decorum

Est Pro Patria Mori


Out in the darkness, run run away.

Speed good boat, carry the king.

But I'll never yield. Stars lead the way.

I'd rather be blue over you,


Remember me with snow, girl from the north.

But I have no coat to protect me from the howling winds!


Running on empty, into the sun, blind and broken.


Step out of the sun if you keep getting burned.

Waiting on an answer as folks pass by.


Nighttime hell.

So far from the shallow.

Words so sharp they cut.

The riddle with no answer plagues me

No more respite left or right.


Darkness falls.

Endless greenwaves of life yet unknown.

What I'd give to remember that state.

Take me home to the meadow.


Will I ever be more?

Did I ever make a sound?

Which train??


Oh, the Ides of March,

You are a mystery to me!


I fear I shall never escape your doldrums.


About the Creator

Call Me Les

She/her | Cat enthusiast | "Word-Nerd" | Fueled by buttertarts

  • Co-Founding admin at Vocal Social Society & Great Incantations
  • Co-Founder of the Vocal Creators Chronicle
  • Vocal Spotlight
  • Book: Owl in a Towel


No words left unspoken.

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