Not Me – Written Wednesday 2nd August 2006 (Aged 31)

Not Me

a squirming white hand –
shoots up into the air
not me –
the voice cries!
and a deep sigh reverberates –
around the room
swallowed up by old and hungry walls

not me –
it squeals
like a trapped animal
the hand dances about nervously
fingertips outstretched
eyes looking for acceptance
when they should be looking for breath

not me –
it is never them
their tide has never turned
their lives have never learned
their experience has only ever burned




James Garratt – Wednesday 2nd August 2006


More poems at
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/


More about this blog, The Boy Behind the Glasses, here
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/2020/01/08/the-boy-behind-the-glasses-an-introduction/


More poems from 2006 here
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/category/poems-and-writing-2006/poems-april-2006/

14 Comments

  1. This has such a frantic energy to it… really driven… almost about to burst.
    “swallowed up by old and hungry walls”… Such a great line.
    An awesome poem – you understand how to “ensare” the reader quite well – amazing work.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you – that’s interesting in my head, my writing is always my secret, my safe place, I don’t share to be read or to appeal, but clearly there is a large part of me writing for an audience. This was my bitter phase 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I think it’s the honesty in your words – at least that’s what drew me in at first and keeps me coming back for more. Nothing scripted, nothing doctored, just raw emotion. There is real life here… and you know how to write it down. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I do theorise that lots of people prefer an escapist style of writing – that they don’t want to read about the rawness of life or what’s perceived as depressing – i think most writing lands better when it leads people away to fluffy places 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Perhaps people do… but usually, those are the ones who prefer hiding behind words themselves or who are simply not present in the poems they write (we talked about empty poetry). Guess those who want the fluffy stuff should move on… cause for them, there is nothing to see here. 😉
        I like the honest stuff. To me, it is what matters.

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