I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
Category: open space
08/09/2023 j.g.l.
The spectre itself invades the mind,
an illusion of sorts, within time
finding place on the page.
Wonders never cease, not in
the unrelenting rhythm or melody
in a surge of words.
As if there is always a place
for dialogue or description
which beckons a state of grace.
Unsupported, at times, by
ulterior motives or unfulfilled
intentions from days or years
gone by, the presence of a mind
undeterred or oblivious to the
surrounding space.
And if allowed, a personal choice,
you will surface, undefeated,
above the noise.
04/07/2021 j.g.l.
Posted on April 5, 2024 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
Nothing to show, no remorse;
a game I play, I’ll stay the course.
Lottery ticket provides little luck,
a pattern in which I am always stuck.
A buck or two will fund grand dreams
bigger than my wallet, or so it seems.
Life-altering prize I have yet to win,
I feel the greed, the shame and sin.
Incomprehensible odds even greater
than a multi-million-dollar jackpot.
Hope is cheap, at least today. I will
purchase another ticket and play again.
04/04/2024 j.g.l.
