POETRY | PURPOSE | LIFE LESSONS

Is It Too Late?

Free Verse poem

Photo by Tiago Bandeira on Unsplash

How do I write about purpose
when I no longer know my own?
I did once, long ago
bright-eyed and determined —
I wanted to weaponise my words
slice through the demons of this world
right the wrongs
reveal the hidden bones
of corruption run amok

But I had demons of my own
that needed slaying
and my demons weren’t readers —
I had no voice to echo them out
Their torment overshadowed me
left little room for my warrior self
Their occasional plagues
became rampant attacks
and I had no immunity against them

Decades came and passed
as I cowered in my self-imposed cave
carefully nestled between fanged walls
trying to find my sword, my voice —
small whimpers at first
but not quite loud enough
followed by squeaks and yelps
’til one day, a roar
The demons took notice then