Poor Me

Love comes at a hefty price, for me,

A fee that I’m unable to pay.

That’s why I’m loveless, you see,

Since the wealth of self-worth, never came my way. 

I cannot afford love – it’s true,

And I’m deprived in this regard.

I so wish to amass the adequate amount due,

So that, from this commodity, I will no longer be barred.

Sometimes, I still search for someone, to hand it out for free,

And to understand that I lack the courage needed for this transaction.

But, if anything, I’m probably overlooked for my poverty,

Thus, I remain alone, still searching for comfort; satisfaction.


Messages of the Marooned II

On a chilly, winter evening,

I kindled a fire to keep me warm,

And as I gazed upon the horizon,

I noticed the approach of yet another storm.

Then, it finally dawned on me, like it should have long before,

That the chance of being found on this island is never more.

Thus I extracted from my breast pocket, her picture, once more,

Realizing that I can no longer keep ajar Hope’s door,

So I stared at her face longingly, for the final time,

And then I finally tossed her image into the smouldering fire,

Burning with it her memory, and my Freedom’s desire.


In the early stages of my Life’s construction,

I would unwittingly press the button,

Of Self-Destruction.

I did this when I could never find,

The Self-Confidence,

To bring me any peace of mind.

Since this confidence remains elusive,

And its lacking still an obstruction,

I can’t but help remain reclusive,

Until I bring about my Life’s reconstruction.

I could never have foretold,

That by merely feeling unworthy,

Such damage would unfold,

Such damage that’s proving- unworldly.



As a young boy, I felt a certain sense of nudity,

A sense of self that could be construed, a sort of lunacy.

An expectant state of being judged rather brutally,

A sense of shame that left me void of any dignity.

I felt this way around the people I called my community,

And felt that whenever I appeared, they would leap on the opportunity,

To target my presence and shame my flaws with eager ferocity. 

Now, no longer a boy, I still feel this way with much regularity,

Wondering what could have been, if not for this disparity.

And from this state I desire to wage a zealous mutiny,

Yearning to be free from this state of prolonged captivity.

Will I ever break free from the chains of past hostility?

Will I ever overcome the damage of their spite, their scrutiny?




The Pebbled Shore II

As the gloom lifted, and the clouds moved away,

The sun finally shone upon your gloomy pebbled shore,

And your heart lifted and you began to dream of more.


You could not have foreseen that,

Such a vessel would visit your stretch of lonely shore.

And even your stubborn hope could not have hoped for,

A ship so beautiful to set foot at your door.


But you are aware that your island is an inaccessible place,

With no harbour for her to dock, or the means for her travelers to come ashore.

And you had little courage to swim across the crashing waves,

So for them to conjour a way to you, was all you could wish for.


But neither you nor they were willing to bridge the gap, so her visit was only that,

A brief station on the waters some way off the shore.

Although you were filled with wishful thinking,

Hoping your island would finally be explored.


That wish would be unfulfilled,

So she sailed away from you, when you waited at the shore.

And you knew that your chance to escape with her,

And her travelers, was no more.


Ever since, you’ve been consumed with placing messages,

Into the sea, which you place into the water near the shore.

Hoping it will reach her, or something connected with her,

And by your calling words, she’ll visit your island the way she did before.


But she’s seas away now, sailing on calm, warmer waters,

Nothing like the cold, violent sea, which surrounds your island’s shore.

And despite your longing to be visited on your lonely island,

You know that your chance to see her again, is no more.


Messages of the Marooned I

I had hoped a vessel would have docked at the bay,

That some form of life from afar would have on this island stay,

Along side me, the one cast away,

The one too fragile to survive even a day,

On the land of many people, now so far away.

Now, all I want is for someone to come this way,

All I want is for one to stay.

But should a vessel find to me a way,

Would I have the courage to then say:

‘I no longer want to be alone, this way.’?



Messages of the Marooned

Although this place is now firmly my abode,

I can’t help but yearn to tread another road.

A path away from this empty place,

A way out of this meaningless space.

I now crave for more than just a place of respite,

I yearn for company, for pleasure and delight.

I have become desperate to connect with another mind,

I feel so empty here, cast off, and left behind.

But I fear that a castaway is all I can be,

I fear that being imprisoned is my only means to be free.